


This Time I Might Disappear

by NiuNiu



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Mariblanc, Near Future, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-06-06 11:09:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 44,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6751591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NiuNiu/pseuds/NiuNiu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marinette, a freelance journalist and famous for always capturing news of Ladybug before anyone else, finds herself in an unfavorable deal with the Paris's antagonist, Chat Blanc, who has set his eyes on capturing Ladybug. While Marinette tries to find a way out from the deal, Chat Blanc breaths down on her neck more and more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Deal

**Author's Note:**

> I had plenty of ideas for a fic after finishing The Wingman Visits. I see if I can make all the ideas fit into this one, but if not, then I’ll write another fic! For this fic I decided to go to a full Marinette x Chat Blanc fic. Wingman Visits was literally my first touch to both ML fics and Chat Blanc, and I enjoyed writing him so much I wanted to write some more. 
> 
> This fic takes places in an au setting, near future when both of them are young adults. Marinette is a journalist and famous for always capturing news of Ladybug before anyone else. Chat Blanc is the Paris’s antagonist, hunting down Ladybug instead of Hawkmoth, and he’s determined to capture her. That’s all you need to know for now and I drop more info later, as I don't want to spoil people. 
> 
> .......
> 
> Again, I have to apologize my oddly functioning brains which make me miss typos and even words at times – this also happens with my native language (my brains fill the missing words in and turn the typos into correct words and grammar). I have chosen not to work with betas due bad prior experiences. Please enjoy the fic nevertheless and come to read the chapters again later, because I hunt down my mistakes later for multiple times!
> 
> .....
> 
> Any kind of comments – as well as kudos - are highly encouraged! Your feedback is the only reason I finished Wingman Visits and started this new fic. Never underestimate the power of feedback! No one writes just for themselves but for the readers to engage with them and to go on this fic journey together.
> 
> And yes, you are absolutely allowed to do fanart or write fics based on this if you get an inspiration, as long as you credit me! Please let me know if you do, and especially note me in Tumblr, where I’m as niuniente.

Marinette’s life wasn’t anything extraordinary or glamorous, though some people might have believed so. She worked as a freelancer journalist for multiple different magazines around France – bless the age of internet and virtual remote work – but her biggest and most important job connections were in Paris. Thus she had decided to stay in her home city after the junior high, still hoping to make it into a fashion school at some point. Right now her life was filled with the journalist work and helping her parents with the family bakery whenever they needed an extra hand pair.

Of course no one knew that her reason to stay in Paris wasn’t only her family connections, a dear home city or good memories keeping her there. Marinette was the destined Parisian heroine Ladybug, famous all around the France. While there were also other miraculous holders, Ladybug had been ranked as the France’s official guardian despite her working area being just Paris. Sometimes she encountered nasty people also during her trips and helped people out as Ladybug outside Paris, but it only worked as her advantage; it made harder for people to figure out who Ladybug actually was. People loved her and felt themselves safe for knowing someone like Ladybug was looking over their daily lives.  
  
There was also another miraculous holder keeping his nest in Paris and he was known as Chat Blanc. A man in a completely white leather cat suit and purple eyes, his wide sneer scaring even the bravest ones in Paris.  

No one knew how Chat Blanc had gotten his miraculous and what was his aim. He seemed to randomly appear here and there, moving very quickly in the tracks of Ladybug, and despite his boisterous nature and chest buffing which he did often, Marinette found him mostly just annoying - though to be honest Marinette couldn’t say was she annoyed with him being so annoying, with her not being able to get rid of him yet or with the fact she either had no idea of what Chat Blanc was after. She had encountered him multiple times as Ladybug, but it was still unknown what he really wanted. Marinette had made a conclusion that either he was after her earrings - which would have been reasonable, she knew just how powerful her miraculous was - or then he simply just enjoyed being the opposing force in Ladybug’s life. Every protagonist needed their antagonist. She brushed the thought of Chat Blanc’s intentions off and paid little attention to him, hoping only he wouldn’t do much bad deeds around Paris. Sometimes he was very active and at times she barely heard anything of him. He was, easily, a mystery.

The thoughts of Ladybug’s life whirled in Marinette’s mind as she stared blankly at the laptop screen, her newest blog update for La Perle magazine’s webpage being yet only half done. It would be so interesting to make blog posts of Ladybug, and sometimes Marinette did slip something which had happened to her as Ladybug into her La Perle updates, but made it so no one recognized the connection. However, her current theme was about happy life style, and while Marinette was able to come up many things which were well in her life and which made her happy, the blog post looked cheesy and had no soul in it. She couldn’t help the feeling that something was amiss, though Marinette had no idea what it would have been. Taking a long sip from her already cooled down coffee Marinette pushed the feeling back to the back of her head, thinking it was mostly just lack of inspiration and insight.

“I don’t want to write this kind of a crap, but perhaps a generic post entry will reach and touch wider audience,” she muttered to her pet hamster, which had in buried to sleep deep into his beddings and was completely unaware of someone talking to him.

Sighing Marinette returned to her work, the cursor blinking almost mockingly at her. She was about to start the next chapter, when her Ladybug senses tingled. Without any second thought she jumped up from her seat, pulled a jacket over her and ran out from the door with a purse and her trustworthy camera around her neck. During the years working as the heroine she had learned to trust her gut feelings when they arose, and dash out to which ever direction they might be pulling her, at any time of the day. It made her work easier when she was at the scene as fast as possible, sometimes even preventing something bad from happening.  It also didn’t drain her so much to use her miraculous to clean up the mess afterwards, if the bad guys didn’t manage to cause horrible mess. While they were clearly some evil forces at work, something which spawned from a corrupted miraculous energy – or so Marinette assumed – most of the cases were caused just by regular humans; violence, attacks, abuses, robberies, host situations… Anything a human mind could come up with.

She soon reached the destination of her gut feeling, noticing it was this time a good old jewelry store robbery taking in place. She set her camera to a hidden place, covering it up well, and dashed then to a safe place to transform. A tap on the earrings and the magic words, and everything was set for beating up the bad guys. Like always, this didn’t take long either – mere humans weren’t that much of a challenge to Ladybug – and soon she was showered with hearty and touched streams of thanks from the store owner and people nearby. When she was done with all the positive commotion, Marinette hit herself again for the transformation time and made then her way carefully to her camouflaged camera. While walking back home to finish her blog business for today, Marinette went through the pictures and for her joy she found a few really good pictures.

“These will sell with a good price,” she smirked out a murmur, flipping the pictures through. It was rare to get good shots, so today was clearly a very lucky day to her. She made her mind to offer the pics for her most trustworthy newspaper company – the one which also paid her the best – and if they declined for some reason, Marinette had multiple other choices left.

Suddenly the blog writing felt and sounded inspiring again. Perhaps she had needed just a little rush of adrenaline to get her back to the journalist business.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

“Oh, thanks for the newest pics, Marinette!” Alya’s voice was full of joy on the other end of her phone.

“It was nothing, I’m glad to help,” Marinette smiled at her coffee cup, lazily whirling her spoon in it. The café was more or less crowded, but it didn’t bother Marinette, not today. The photos had sold with a good prize and with her copyrights she had devoted copies of the original ones also for Alya.

“You need to check out how crazy fans are about these new pics! The Ladyblog is getting so many hits right now!” Alya continued, clearly excited.

“I can imagine that, Alya. It’s not that difficult,” she hummed back at Alya, eyes cast down at her drink, with a tiny smile lingering on her lips.

Alya was quiet for a second on the other end.

“Marinette, you sound a bit tired. Is everything alright?” she broke the silence suddenly.

“Ah, yes, sorry!” Marinette hastily composed herself, shifting in her seat to a straighter posture. “It’s nothing, you know me.”

The silence on Alya’s side continued for a moment, until a thoughtful hum was heard.

“Wait, what day is it?”

“Almost Valentine’s Day. Have you gotten something to Nino already?” Marinette questioned, but Alya pushed her question away.

“No, no, we’re not talking about that now. Are you alright? I know it’s The Agreste Day soon. Are you still upset because of it? Not that it would be a bad thing, I don’t mean it like that, but would you want to talk about it? Should I come over?”

The smile on Marinette’s face grew wider and softer, her eyes warm.

“Don’t worry, I’m fine. It gets easier each year. I’m just a bit upset. No need to come over,” she closed her eyelids while talking, lifting the coffee mug up to her lips.

“Are you sure? I could give you something else to think.”

“Yes, Alya. Thanks, but no thanks. I’ve got my work and the Ladybug hunt to keep me busy anyway. Plus, Stallone,” she waved her hand in the air.

“By the way how is he?”

“Same as ever. Sleeps days, rustles around the nights. Still hates cucumbers but could stuff himself with nuts.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t hoarded a herd of hamsters yet,” Marinette could hear a tiny mischievous grin in Alya’s voice when she spoke about the hamsters, which were Marinette’s love of life. “If you asked me, you’d need a bit manlier companion than a dwarf hamster into your life.”

“Alya! I’m seriously not interested in that,” she groaned, shaking her head with a frown.

“I know it’s a sore subject, but---“ Alya began, but Marinette stopped her immediately.

“It’s. Not. A. Sore. Subject,” she underlined each words carefully, “I’m just not interested in finding anyone or get into a relationship right now. I’ve got my hands full of work and my own hobbies. And to be honest, I don’t know who could even fit into my life,” she spoke, giving out an impression she was an independent and busy woman and had thus difficulties finding an independent and equally active man in her life, though in reality Marinette was thinking that there was no way she could ever share her Ladybug life with someone else. What if there was a break up, even a divorce? Would the man reveal who she truly was to everyone, as a revenge or as in hopes to sell her secret identity information for big money for any magazine offering him the biggest amount of money for that tiny piece of information, information, which bugged every single Parisian?

“Well, I think it’s good to be picky. Less hassle with everything, you know,” Alya hummed approvingly, completely unaware of Marinette’s inner turmoil regarding the whole love business.

“Anyway, back to the Valentine’s, have you gotten Nino something?” Marinette changed the subject, not wanting to dwell on her own life responsibilities more.

“I’m taking him to movies. I haven’t told him anything yet, it’s a surprise,” Alya explained shortly, and somehow Marinette got a feeling she shouldn’t get too nosy with Alya’s plans for the Valentine’s Day. Thus she accepted her answer with a happy grin.

“That’s a good plan. Let’s hope Nino hasn’t made any surprise plans for that day.”

“Oh god, you are right! Fingers crossed then,” Alya agreed. Then she continued with the original subject of the phone call, “Anyway, I wanted to thank you for the photos. You are absolutely the best!”

“I keep providing you more whenever I can,” Marinette promised, finishing the rest of her coffee with one go.

“Seriously, girl, I’d be so much in trouble without you. It’s thanks to you this blog has become so popular in the past 1,5 years or so,” Alya kept praising Marinette and she couldn’t help herself from blushing a bit.

“Well, you are my best friend and anything for my best friend,” Marinette smiled bashfully, “But I wouldn’t go that far and say it’s all just because of me and my photos which have made your blog so loved and followed.”

“Nonsense! Things started to sky rocket as soon as you started to get photos of Ladybug and send them over to me high in quality. Perhaps I do some Ladyblog merchandise from them and arrange Ladylottery with them.”

“If you want, you can use my photos for that,” Marinette promised.

“Do you think Ladybug would mind, if she knew?” Alya hesitated.

“About the lottery? I don’t think so. I’m sure she’s aware of the blog anyway,” she assured Alya calmly.

“But it’s not official merch…” Alya hesitated a bit more, but Marinette stopped it.

“Alya, you know the companies making the merch are the ones getting the profit. Ladybug gets nothing, as no one knows who she is. So I don’t think she minds if you do your own merch. Heck, you can go and sell them if you please, if you ask from me.”

“But you’re not Ladybug, so maybe I just do the lottery and play safe. I don’t want to anger her,” Alya let out a short laughter.

Marinette rolled her eyes in her head with a grin, but said nothing to Alya’s statement.

“You know the best what you want to do,” she agreed with her.

“Anyway, speaking of Ladybug, you probably wouldn’t happen to have any news of Chat Blanc?”

Alya’s question took Marinette by surprise and she blinked for a couple of times before finding her voice.

“Chat Blanc? No, why?”

“I mean he’s the antagonist of Ladybug and full of questions. Perhaps you should do some investigative journalism and find out who he really is?”

“Alya! Are you trying to get me killed?” Marinette gasped, hitting behind it the fact she wasn’t the slightest interested in getting involved with Chat Blanc even with her private life, “You’d seriously send me to investigate the most well-known lunatic in Paris – no, whole France!”

“I’m sure you could do it,” her tone was humorous and Marinette snorted.

“I stick with Ladybug, trust me,” she affirmed, feeling that Chat Blanc was such a nut case it wasn’t even interesting to get investigate his life. In Marinette’s mind that haughty villain didn’t need any boost to his name, not even as a single newspaper article or a blog post.

“As you wish, but promise me one thing; if you ever figure out who is the Ladybug, let me know first.”

“Of course, there’s no question about it,” Marinette nodded at Alya, silently arguing in her head that Alya could wait for that day for an eternity if it was up to Marinette. There was no way she was ever going to let anyone know the truth.

After the phone call had ended Marinette made her way out from the café and headed for the nearby pet store to buy new seed sticks to Stallone. The different cans and packages of cat food greeted Marinette the moment she stepped inside the store and for some reason they brought up Chat Blanc into her head.

Was the man they had talked briefly with Alya dangerous? Yes. How much? Marinette had no idea. Chat Blanc seemed to care little of other people or Parisians overall, and if he was causing havoc among them it always apparent to be just a trap to lure Ladybug in, for whatever reason. Marinette frowned her brows deeply when she thought that perhaps Chat Blanc wasn’t after her earrings but had an unhealthy obsession for Ladybug, same way as some of her most devoted fans had. It both amused and shivered her to think that perhaps Chat Blanc was just a huge Ladybug fanboy, though the voice in the back of her head reminded Marinette, that if only it was that simple and easy. She passed the cat food aisle quickly and exited the shop even quicker after getting the hamster food she was after with.

Back at home Stallone the dwarf hamster had woke up, keeping himself busy with the toilet paper pieces. Marinette changed a new seed stick for him and proceed to boil an another cup of coffee. Tomorrow was a working day at her parents’ bakery with a big wedding anniversary order and while drinking too much coffee had the possible result of insomnia, Marinette took the risk. Today she wanted to have coffee. A lot. When the coffee was done she went through the magazine with the exclusive Ladybug photos she had managed to gotten yesterday. The editor-in-chief had basically screamed at her to sell these new photos to his magazine. It pleased Marinette to have this opportunity to earn more money with her own photos, but she was careful not to shower media constantly with them. It would make everyone too suspicious. However, she offered very often lower quality Lady photos for Alya’s blog, photos, which wouldn’t interest the media so much but which would make her fans and Alya happy. She gladly did that.

“I could earn so much more money if I took some private photos of Ladybug. Like Ladybug’s summer bikini style. Or those lingerie pictures you see taken of almost every famous woman,” Marinette amused herself with a chuckle, talking to her hamster, who again paid no attention to her words.

“Maybe I should do a private interview…” Marinette continued despite Stallone’s ignoring, pressing her lips thoughtfully against the coffee cup’s edge. She had played around with the idea of managing to somehow contact Ladybug and making a private interview of her and selling it with to whichever publisher was ready to pay the highest amount of fresh cash for it. Now the idea was ticking in her head, thanks to Alya bringing up the suggestion of Chat Blanc’s interview or at least some snooping around of his businesses and persona.

“You know, doing a private interview is a bit risky. Perhaps I just happen to stumble on Alya someday after a mission and give her a short interview? If I manage to avoid the media that is,” her voice was low, thinking. “It’s been a long since the last interview for the Ladyblog and we’re talking about Alya here. She’s both my best friend and the biggest fan of Ladybug ever. I feel a bit bad for cheating her like this, so perhaps the guilt makes me want to provide her as much Ladybug material as possible.”

Again, Stallone had nothing to say to Marinette. He had hit himself into his hollow coconut home with the shredded toilet paper pieces.

Marinette kicked back and lifted her feet on the table – a bad habit she had started to do while living alone the past years – and opened TV. Before she even got to relax properly in front of it, her door phone rang. She stood up, looking up the clock which stated it was coming soon 9pm, and wondered if Alya had decided to stop by. She picked the phone and put it over her ear.

“Yes?”

“I--- I’m sorry,” a weak voice of a young girl greeted Marinette, “My name is Loretta… I got lost and… I lost my phone, too… Could I call my mother…? I’m sorry, this is… this is emergency…  Please…”

Marinette assumed she was a teenager from her vice. Marinette remembered her own teenage years and she replied to her without any hesitation.

“Don’t worry! I’ll call your parents. What’s their number? You can remember it, right?”

“Ye—yes, but… could I come inside…? I’m alone, my friends went home already and---“

“Say no more, I open the door for you. This is the highest floor, apartment 35. Don’t worry, you’ll get back home soon. I open the door now,” Marinette said firmly, pressing the front door’s lock open, keeping the phone line open. When she heard the front door closing down in the distance, she put the phone back and stood waiting for the doorbell to ring. She was very worried of the girl, hoping nothing bad had happened while she got lost, or that she wasn’t robbed and thus without her phone. As the doorbell finally rang, after a wait which felt too long for Marinette’s comfort, she basically swung the door open.

“Good, you found the right door, I’m Ma---“

Her voice got cut like with a sharp knife.

Before her stood Chat Blanc. There was no trace of a young girl anywhere.

“Good evening,” Chat Blanc purred, tipping his index and middle finger as a sort salute for Marinette from his forehead.

Marinette couldn’t believe her eyes. Angrily she fumed at Chat.

“Where’s the girl?”

“Ah, no worries of her. I just borrowed her voice and let her go then. Just a lovely little actress. She will win an Oscar someday,” his sneer spread from ear to ear, eyes narrowing.

Marinette wasn’t happy with his answer. She huffed at him between her teeth and pushed the door to close it. Chat’s feet blocked the door quickly and he took a hold of the door’s edge.

“Now, now, let’s not be hasty. The famous Chat Blanc has come to pay you a visit. Aren’t you flattered?” he hissed softly, eyes keenly over Marinette. His claws let out a scratching sound on the wooden surface.  

“I have no room for uninvited guests. Please, leave,” Marinette spoke sternly, refusing to break the intense eye contact with Chat. His purple eyes narrowed, the white mask cocking upwards with his curious expression.

“Sassy, aren’t we? I have something which interests you with 100% of certainty. Let’s talk inside and not bother the neighbors at this hour.”

“Thank you but no thank you. I highly doubt it,” Marinette kept her posture, trying to push the door close again. Chat refused to budge either, not allowing Marinette to go.

“I have asked nicely and I ask it for one more time; let’s talk inside. If you refuse, I will seek that little helper of mine into my claws and send her in a nice parcel to her parents. Half of the body for the mother and half for the father. How does this sound to you?”

Marinette froze, suddenly realizing that she was indeed talking with Chat Blanc here. As much as she found him only annoying as Ladybug, she couldn’t take any risk that the lunatic wouldn’t indeed do something horrible to someone to get his way through. Whether he was bluffing or not, Marinette didn’t want to try her luck too much, not in an expense of an innocent civilian. She sighed, her shoulders slumping down and she pulled the door open slowly, moving away from the doorframe.

“Come on in,” her voice was beaten and Chat grinned, marching in his hands behind his back like he had owned the place.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be a nice quest and I leave as soon as we have come into an agreement. And, to be extra nice, I just stand here in the hallway,” he turned on his heels towards Marinette, eyes following the closing door.

Marinette noticed she had put herself into a bad place – between the door and Chat Blanc. Hastily she pushed past him, relieved that he hadn’t figured out why she needed to move around.

“How about some coffee, now that you are here?” she offered, hiding her reason to go past him into that question.

“No thanks, I’m a busy man,” he spoke, his sneer now gone. Marinette stopped, looking over her shoulder Chat.

“It was difficult to find you, Marinette Cheng. I have been looking for you quite a long time,” Chat began and Marinette did her best to keep her cool and not look or sound too surprised.

“Oh? Why such an honor?” she questioned, turning towards him and crossed her arms over her chest.

Chat’s grin spread over his pale lips, eyes narrowing.

“So very sassy,” he chuckled, shifting his weight to another leg, “As I said, I’m a busy man, so I cut the chase. Tell me everything you know about Ladybug.”

Marinette was sure she paled down at least three shades by his question, which stroke her like a lightning bolt. Had he figured out her secret? If he had done that, what should she do? Her home was a way too small for a full fight with someone as tall and strong as Chat Blanc and she needed time to transform, too. She was the most vulnerable during the transformation. Quickly Marinette covered her surprise with an amused snicker, shaking her head.

“What makes you think I’d know anything about Ladybug? If someone of us here knows about her it has to be you,” Marinette spoke firmly, keeping her voice amused. Chat himself didn’t find his request nor Marinette’s question humorous, not the slightest.

“I’m serious. I demand it. Tell me everything you know,” his voice was stern and serious.

“I ask you again; what makes you think I’d know anything about her? I know as much as every other Parisian.”

Chat’s eyes narrowed even more and he took a step closer, eyes fixated on Marinette’s face.

“Marinette Cheng, a freelance journalist and a photographer, and very, very, oh, so very well-known of her ability to find Ladybug and get shots of her almost every time she appears somewhere,” Chat listed with an icy voice, looking down Marinette. “On top of that she’s second in charge of the world most famous Ladybug fan source, Ladyblog, together with Alya Césaire. Most of the photos appearing in the Ladyblog have a name of Marinette Cheng in their credits.”

Marinette’s eyed widened and her hands dropped down to her sides. She couldn’t speak.

“Isn’t it amazing how you always manage to be there where the Ladybug is? Always at the same place at the same time. You must know something about her, something no one else does,” Chat continued, closing the gap between them, pushing himself as close to Marinette as possible, his purple eyes never leaving her face.

“I’m just a journalist and a photographer. Like I said, I know as much as anyone else,” Marinette felt how her voice was becoming a tottering stutter. She had to compose herself quickly and come up with something to distract Chat Blanc with.

“It doesn’t explain why it’s always you,” he underlined the last word, pointing at Marinette with his long finger. “What’s your secret, princess?” Chat grinned like Cheshire Cat.

Marinette was screaming internally, her brains hastily trying to come up with something to say. This was the closest anyone had gotten with the connection she shared with Ladybug, and Chat Blanc was the least of the persons she wanted to find the truth out. She breathed in slowly, letting her fingers, which had curled into fists, relax.

“I’m just that good with my job,” she replied casually. “A good journalist and a photographer is always a step ahead of others, sniffing out the best scoops. Just like a good villain is a step ahead of the hero.”

Chat’s eyes flashed at her last remark, his lips pressing together.

“So, you are aware of how this villain business works. Lovely. I let that implying of my skills slip this time, but next time I recommend you to be careful with how you talk about villains,” Chat noted. Marinette understood he had taken her comment as an insult of him leaving empty handed with every encounter with Ladybug. Not wanting to make things worse than they already was, she hastily put her hands up and waved them in the air.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant!” she corrected herself hastily, “What I meant was that you are clearly planning to be a step ahead of Ladybug – no, a leap ahead.”

Chat’s facial expression relaxed and then he let out a hearty laugh, fangs flashing with his shoulders popping up and down.

“Glad we understand each other so well. It was a right thing to seek you into my hands,” he purred pleased after his laughter had died down. “Anyway, I’m still waiting for the answer,” he took a hold of his tail, whirling it casually in his hold.

Marinette could tell her time was running short. Chat Blanc was clearly not swallowing the explanation that she knew nothing, at least not this easily, or that her luck with Ladybug was only due her amazing skills in her profession.

“And I have given the answer to you, multiple times. Whatever you might have in your mind, I can’t help you with that. I’m sorry if my work has left you with an opposite impression,” Marinette decided to continue the path of an assertive denial with Chat Blanc. “Maybe you should tell me something of Ladybug which I don’t know. The fans in Ladyblog would love you for that.”

“I don’t need the sympathy and fake love of Ladybug’s fans,” Chat’s voice was suddenly a venomous spat as he dropped his tail from his hand, his head pressing lower towards Marinette. “Save that for yourself.”

Marinette inspected his hatred filled eyes, completely taken back by his snarling reply. Again she lifted her palms up as a sign of a peace offering.

“My bad. Sorry,” she said, not really knowing where that was coming from or what she was apologizing for, except annoying Chat Blanc and risking her safety. Chat’s steely gaze softened quickly, his eyes looking out of his usual character for a second, until he straightened his back with a snort.

“Whatever,” he scoffed, turning his head away from Marinette. “I’m a kind man, a lot kinder than you think, so I make a deal with you: I give you time to figure out more information of Ladybug and you let me know anything you come up with. Mark my words; I won’t let you slip away. My sixth sense says there’s something fishy here, and I’m going to find it out,” his head turned back to Marinette, purple cat eyes drilling into her core with a cold stare. “I will be walking in your shadows like a pale ghost, somewhere near and somewhere far. You will never know where I’m lurking.”

“What if I refuse?” Marinette stroke back with a glare, following Chat’s grin, which appeared to the corner of his mouth.

“I wouldn’t recommend that,” his fangs popped visible from his mouth with the grin.

“Killing the messenger is a bad choice,” she pointed out. His reply was a tilt of his head, the grin remaining on his pale face.

“Oh, but there are other things to do than kill. Other targets than the messenger. Like messenger’s best friend. Or a family member. I’m very good at convincing people to work with me, if they start to get doubts or feel hesitant. No one has ever broken a deal with me after my persuasion,” Chat’s voice sent a chill down to Marinette’s spine. She didn’t want to think her other options with Chat Blanc more. It was the best to play with him as he hoped to be played with.

“Your plans of following me won’t do any good, I promise that,” Marinette said quickly, hoping she could negotiate with him about his request. “Most likely you will just scare Ladybug away when she senses you around. I will lose my job and won’t get any photos nor new info.”

“I highly doubt that,” Chat replied between his grinning lips, but then his face turned into a serious expression, “but that’s a reasonable worry. Wouldn’t do any good for any of us if our beloved Ladybug flew away in a distress when we just want to get to know her better, right?”

She didn’t like the choice of his words or how the sneer returned to his lips, but Marinette nodded nevertheless.

“Absolutely. She would most likely avoid any confrontation with you because of me as a civilian. I’d be in a danger if you and her clashed.”

“That’s definitely what she would do. Oh, I love how we think the same way,” he sighed almost dramatically, “However, I will keep my eyes on you. That’s for sure.”

“What do you want from Ladybug, exactly?” Marinette had to ask that. Perhaps it gave her some idea for a plan how to get rid of Chat Blanc and keep her heroine identity as a secret.

“That’s, my lady, a secret,” Chat Blanc lifted a finger up to his lips. “If we become good partners in crime, then I might spill my beans to you. But for now my lips are sealed.”

‘Naturally’, Marinette thought silently, but said nothing. Chat waved his hand in the air, turning his wide back to Marinette.

“I’m glad we found a common ground with this matter. I will visit you again someday, and I highly recommend you letting me in. We cats can be very nasty when we’re locked and pushed away,” Chat spoke, his voice as a tender purr which was filled with icy tones.

Marinette wasn’t happy with this deal, a deal which had happened without her consent or her being able to do anything to stop it from happening. She thought it would be possible to get rid of the deal and Chat Blanc later, but right now she would play along and play dumb. If it continued long enough, especially without Marinette meeting with Ladybug, Chat would see that she really knew nothing and leave her be.

“I’ll be waiting for you, then,” she replied back, earning a chuckle from Chat.

“I promise I won’t keep you waiting too long. Don’t you keep me waiting, either,” he said, disappearing from Marinette’s apartment as quickly as he had appeared in there in the first place.

Marinette stared at the closed door in a disbelief, the reality of the situation really sinking in now that she was left alone and she could breathe normally.

There was no way she was going to tell anyone about this. Absolute not. Not even Alya should know about this. It was too risky and Marinette didn’t want to put anyone else in the danger’s way. She was enough. She was Ladybug. She was Marinette. She could figure things out and heave Chat Blanc away from her hide quickly, with no problems.

She needed a plan.


	2. The Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Marinette spirals down, down, down.

Marinette’s hands were shaking when she walked towards her parents’ bakery the next day, a day after Chat Blanc’s visit. She wasn’t that scared for her own safety, but for her parents. If Blanc was indeed following her right now, like he had insisted to do, he would find out where her parents lived and use them to blackmail her deeper into his own plans. For today Marinette promised herself she would think about Chat Blanc as little as possible and keep up her regular face around her family, as they really didn’t need to know what was going on. No one needed. She steadied her hand before stepping inside the bakery with her own keys, the scent of fresh croissants filling her nostrils immediately.

“Mom, dad, I’m here!” she yelled and was greeted by her father’s face peeking out from behind the corner.

“Good timing, Marinette. I need some help with these lemon tarts,” he spoke and Marinette’s worries were gone in that instant. The scents of the bakery – her childhood home – flooded all her senses and her parents’ warm presence soothed her nervous mind. It felt safe and homey, something she desperately needed now.

The day in the bakery went by as every similar day there; baking, customers, chatting, catching up with parents and so on. At the evening, when the bakery was shut, Marinette stayed behind for a while, sitting in her old room, which was now turned into a spare room for quests. She felt a bit nostalgic sitting there, looking at the walls which were now empty from the posters and cards she had glued here and there back then. There was no sewing equipment spilled all over the tables, no thread pieces hiding in the corners on the floor level, no run-a-way sequins sticking on to your bare soles. The room was clean, neat and mostly filled with Marinette’s mother’s extra items. Marinette’s remaining items had been stocked into the tall cupboards her mother had bought into the room after Marinette had moved away from home. Feeling even more nostalgic Marinette decided to go through the stuff, for old time’s sake.

She picked the pink boxes hidden on the highest shelf, wondering if she could find something very nice from them. The first’s box’s lid revealed sewing and jewelry items, some tiny note books with Marinette’s memos of different designs – god, she had been so creative back then – and also stickers, which were half used. The second box, a bigger one, had magazines, some printed photos, a few memory sticks Marinette thought she had stored some inspiration images into, and different decorative tapes. She decided to take the tapes and memory sticks with her. The third box felt heavy and inside there were more notebooks, drawing pads, folders full of magazine spreads, doodles, notes and some silly doodled school papers she had saved, because they had doodled those full with Ladybug’s adventures with Alya during the boring classes. There was also a Ladybug sticker sheet she had gotten from Alya years and years ago. She felt a bit bad for not using them, not even after all this time. They just stood inside the box.

In the bottom of the box laid a leather covered diary. Marinette gasped when her eyes spotted it.

“I can’t believe this is here… I thought I took all my diaries with me,” she murmured, picking the diary up from the box with a motherly tenderness. She opened it randomly from the middle, reading what she had written down before Christmas when she had been 17 years old. She circled the book around in random order; Christmas time, a Summer, then to Fall, all the way back to Spring, then again to Summer. Aimlessly going through pages, feeling both amused and sometimes also embarrassed for what she had written down. She flipped the pages through and was suddenly seeing just blank pages, with nothing written on them.

A cold sweat appeared on Marinette’s skin. Now she remembered. Now she had a memory of what this diary was, and why it was left here.

She went backwards the blank pages slowly, page by page, until she found the last entry written in it.

 _14 th of April_  
 _Adrien Agreste is here no more…_  
  
She stared at her own hand writing with sad eyes, her heart fluttering painfully. It had been five years already, but Marinette still didn’t feel comfortable with looking at that note. She closed the book slowly, thinking she was being completely stupid and Alya was right when she insisted Marinette needed to talk with her. Yet, she ignored Alya’s offer, thinking there were better things to do than dwell on something that had happened in the past, and that if she just kept ignoring it, it all would eventually fade away. Everything came to an and at some point. That was just how things were. This bad memory would cease to exist at some point, too.

Not being sure should she leave the diary behind, like she had already done once, or take it with her Marinette stared at the leather cover. Perhaps it was wise to take it back her own home, store it among the other diaries she had saved. When looking at that entry wouldn’t hurt anymore, then Marinette would know she had healed. Completely.

She put everything back into the box, but rolled the diary in her hands thoughtfully, figuring out it wouldn’t hurt her to take it back home. After all, it was soon Valentine’s – the Agreste Day. Two weeks to figure something out, something to do on the February 14th, something else than mulling over things Marinette could do nothing about.

In the end, Marinette took the diary under her arm, picking up also the decorative tape rolls and two memory sticks. Putting on a brave face Marinette went back downstairs, shared a few words with her parents and accepted fresh bread and some cookies to go, as they never let Marinette go without something to eat. While walking back to the metro station a small thought of how nice it would be if she had someone to share the pastries with flashed in the back of Marinette’s head. She blamed the old diary entry for that.

Her home felt and sounded emptier than usual when Marinette finally made it back at the evening. She tossed the keys on the small hall table and hanged black leather jacket into hangar. There was no one inside and though Marinette didn’t mind of her rather private life style with little interactions with others, she sometimes had days like these when a company would have been nice.

“I should have stayed at parents’ place this night,” she pursed her lips at herself, going to the kitchen to drop the bag full of bakery souvenirs there. “I should have left the diary there.”

She put the coffee maker on, the thoughts of how her life had gotten into this points starting to whirl in her head faster and faster, her temper rising.

“I should have asked Alya to come over,” Marinette continued her huffing and buffing, slamming her mug on the kitchen counter a bit too forcefully.

“It’s not a sore subject. I’m fine. Everything’s fine. Stupid Marinette, look at yourself! Five years and you’re still a teenager idiot,” her tone got heavier and tighter, brows knitting together into a pissed off expression. “Ladybug this and Ladybug that. I’m just a normal Parisian woman. HAH!” she rolled dramatically around on her heels, scoffing.

Then the sound she wanted to hear the least rang in the air; her door phone. Staring at the direction of the sound she already knew who’s voice she would hear from the other end when she picked the phone up. For a second Marinette pondered if she could just ignore it, but then Chat Blanc’s promises of not so gentle persuasion popped up from her memory and Marinette saw it was wise to do as he wished. Play along, though today was the day when Marinette just wanted to punch his face in for bothering her.

She went to the door and answered the demanding ringing.

“Yes?”

“Good evening, Marinette Cheng,” Chat Blanc’s purr crept into her ear, “You made me wait quite a long time.”

“Sorry, I was in the bathroom,” she lied and shut the phone before he replied anything, opening the front door for Chat with a dull face. She unlocked her own apartment door and made her way sighing to the sofa, slumping down and wishing the idiot cat wouldn’t stay for too long or get too difficult.

Soon Chat’s footsteps echoed in the staircase, nearby Marinette’s door, and in no time Chat Blanc was back in her home, closing the door behind him with an odd grin.

“You are late,” he said again, walking to Marinette’s side with slow, long steps, his grin widening.

“I told I was in the bathroom,” Marinette didn’t look at him.

“I didn’t mean that,” Chat remarked shortly, stopping just next to the sofa, his eyes staring keenly Marinette’s sluggish form.

“Oh?”

“I’ve been waiting for you. You weren’t home.”

Marinette turned her head towards Chat and gave him a tired look underneath her brows.

“I was working. At my parents’ if you must know. I helped dad with some wedding anniversary stuff while mom took care of the customer service at the counter,” she listed with a bored voice.

Chat’s eye brow cocked upwards with a smirk.

“Ah, wedding anniversary. How very boring,” he said dryly, putting hands behind his back.

“You think so?” Marinette really didn’t care what Chat Blanc thought or didn’t.

“Humans are idiots. Doing anything for love. For something so vague, something which controls them like a master controls a blindly obeying dog, which will wag its tail to any small praise it gets from his master. Utter bullshit.”

“But you are a human, too, are you not?” Marinette noted, sensing how her saltiness was getting even more bitter by the talking of love and emotions.

Chat moved before Marinette and knelt down, his face now completely visible to Marinette. He narrowed his eyes, the grin still on its usual place.

“Do I look like a human to you?” he shot a question back to Marinette. She didn’t know what she should reply, reminding herself yet again that perhaps poking around Chat Blanc wasn’t a too wise idea, no matter how much she wanted to get rid of him. When she didn’t know what to say, Marinette simply shrugged her shoulders and tore her eyes away from Chat’s face, staring blankly at her closed TV screen.

“…Thought so, too,” Blanc replied, seemingly pleased with Marinette’s quietness.

“I don’t think you came here to talk about humans but Ladybug,” Marinette said, but didn’t look at Chat. He shifted so that his head crossed Marinette’s line of sight and she was forced to pay attention to his purple eyes.

“Very well guessed. Though I must say I’m very easy to read with that subject. So?” he stretched his voice with his question.

“So what?”

“Any news? Any new memories?” he shifted closer. Too close.

Marinette rolled her eyes, not even trying to hide the fact she was pissed off and annoyed and absolutely in the lousiest mood possible right now.

“No. Like I said, I was helping my parents and as you know, I just came back home,” she brushed the air with her hand casually, waving Chat’s question away.

“No Ladybugs on the way, eh?” Blanc smirked with narrow eyes and Marinette’s hand rose up in the air again.

“Zero. It’s been just a day since you asked last time. Trust me, you’d be the first one to know if there had been any,” her voice was salty, but Chat Blanc wasn’t bothered by her tone.

“I love to hear that. Then, I’ll be waiting for Ladybug news. Hopefully soon,” he pushed himself up from his knees, casting a thoughtful look down at Marinette, who was still lolling on the couch in the same position she had thrown her body on it in the first place. He said nothing.

Marinette caught his stare from the corner of her eye, lifting her gaze up at his unreadable face.

“What?” Marinette asked and this time she couldn’t hide her annoyance.

“Nothing,” he flashed his teeth with a smirk back at her, eyes fixed on her intensively.

“Don’t tell me you will come here again tomorrow?” Marinette murmured, letting her temper speak for her. Chat Blanc only laughed dryly at Marinette’s question, eyes tinted with an odd glee.

“You are an amusing one. Let me tell you that cats can’t be controlled. I come and go as I please. Better get used to it,” he chuckled, kneeling then suddenly down again and capturing Marinette’s eyes with his stare, his upper body pushing closer to Marinette. Her eyes widened.

“The faster you give me the information I want the sooner I stop bothering you. A fair deal, isn’t it?” his fangs were visible, peeking underneath his up curved lips.

Marinette just stared at Chat Blanc, and the way his eyes drilled deep into her core made Marinette remember again the small detail which seemed to slip away from her consciousness constantly – this was a villain she was having a deal with. Paris’s very own lunatic. His suggestion sounded as a good deal, but Marinette knew it wasn’t the case.

“…Anything specific you want to know?” Marinette asked as she thought if she got a reply to that question, it could help her to come up with a plan how to free herself from underneath Chat Blanc’s eyes.

It was Chat’s turn to stare at Marinette with wide eyes, but that lasted only for a second and then the familiar, cocky grin replaced his stare.

“Under my command already? And so easily? No resistance whatsoever? Good, I like that. You are clearly a very wise woman. With your, help this mission will be over in no time,” he sighed with a pleased growl. Marinette was sure she heard some mockery in his voice.

“I’m a journalist, that’s why I asked. My job is to ask questions,” she stated, frowning at Chat Blanc. His eyes scanned her face and he frowned back at her the same manner.

“Your job is not to ask questions from me, but from the Ladybug and from yourself, and then give the answers to me. Very clear, very simple, very easy,” Chat’s tone dropped down a few levels, the iciness in his words running over Marinette’s skin. “The faster the better. Are we clear?”

“…Yes.”

Chat Blanc’s face lighted up and he stood up with a small chuckle.

“Good.”

“…But if you told me what you want to know the most about Ladybug it would help me to deliver you the info. You know, like, proper information. Not just some unnecessary fragments,” Marinette tried again hopefully.

Chat’s head turned to Marinette, his stare running down alongside his nose towards Marinette.

“Everything,” Chat simply replied. It wasn’t what Marinette had hoped to hear.

“Everything? Isn’t that a bit too vague? What do you do with silly info like, eh, let’s say that Ladybug’s favorite color would be red?” Marinette finally pulled herself up from the sloughing position, sitting up straight.

“It’s not your job to decide what information I need and what I don’t. Everything is essential,” Chat Blanc was very unemotional with his remark. Marinette pondered if he truly was a maniac Ladybug fan in the end. She managed to keep her lips sealed and not blurt that thought out loud.

“…Okay, understood,” she nodded, sensing it was the best to drop this conversation fast.

The tall man in white looked pleased at Marinette’s co-operative mindset.

“Good. You learn fast,” he complemented her, “soon we will be the best buddies in the whole Paris. If you do your job well I can perhaps offer you a permanent position from Chat Blanc Association.”

His suggestion sent disgusting shivers all over Marinette’s body from head to toe, but she kept herself composed and didn’t let him know that. On top of that her bad mood was rising again when she stared at Chat Blanc’s cocky face and his posture, which told Marinette he believed his whole existence was above her. She kept her mouth shut.

“Then, until we meet again,” he mockingly bowed down at her, “please, keep your door open for me.”

She just nodded with a small hum, her eye following how Chat straightened his back and turned then his attention to her kitchen. He started to walk towards the bag Marinette had left on the counter, opening it with a sigh.

“Fresh pastries. Can’t remember the last time I had one. Do you mind if I help myself?” he pretended to ask, but in reality Chat’s hand was already in the bag, pulling a bread out from it while he watched Marinette over his shoulder with a cocky smirk.

Marinette’s head peeked over the couch’s back rest and she let out a groan, turning around and slumping down.

“Take all of them if you please. I’m not hungry,” she was being honest for once with him.

Chat Blanc’s ears perked up and he laughed, grapping the whole bag with him. Marinette listened with a sour face how his laugh sounded hollow and how the paper bag rustled in Chat’s hand.

“How generous. I will definitely remember this noble gesture, oh Mother Teresa of the Hungry Stray Cats,” he had come up with another nickname for Marinette, but she ignored it with her best effort. He stopped next to the sofa, looking at Marinette as he was already chewing the white bread on his hand, the paper bag underneath his other arm.

“So much love it spills over even for the most corrupted ones,” he continued his mocking, voice purring. He leaned closer to Marinette, eyes half closed, his nose too close to Marinette. “Such a saint,” he hissed.

Marinette was frozen, lips parting at his intense closeness and the energy he radiated, which had no sign of the annoying Chat Blanc she had faced as Ladybug so many times. This Chat was different in a way which was new to her and she couldn’t pinpoint the reason why.

Something landed on Marinette’s lap and she blinked, finding a cookie bag on her thighs.

“I hate sugar,” Chat simply stated, turning his back at Marinette. “Good girls are made from spice and sugar, so fill your tank with those and be the good girl you need to be.”

Marinette was more or less stupefied. Chat Blanc was gone again in a blink of an eye, the door slamming behind him with a force. Marinette stared at the cookies in her hold, her anger and disappointment mixing together into a negative whirl. She was pissed off with herself, for everything, and disappointed because how everything had turned out and seemed always turn out, too. From a downhill to another.

She took one of the cookies and ate it in a silence, blaming the upcoming Valentine’s Day for triggering the internal turmoil in her with such extend.

Marinette staid up till 4am, not being able to sleep. The day had been a very bad one for her.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

  
Soon the city was filled with Valentine’s Day’s adds and special sales for couples, which didn’t lift Marinette’s mood at all. No matter where she went, there the adds where, blinding her with their overly happy and romantic colors, letters and layouts. Thus she stayed indoors as much as possible and she could feel her how her mood was getting only lousier by each passing day. Later the same week Marinette had found her old diary there was a scene which needed Ladybug’s attention, and while Marinette was cautious of Chat Blanc possibly witnessing her transformation, she had to go anyway. Taking extra good care of her identity secret staying as a secret, Marinette transformed herself into Ladybug and went to beat up some bad guys. She was especially happy for this opportunity to let out some steam, as her boxing lesson a few days earlier hadn’t been enough. Her famous temper was trying to get the upper-hand from her and Marinette had hard time pushing it down. Yet, she kept all of it with herself, not wanting to bother mom, dad or Alya with it. What could she even say to them? That Chat Blanc was after her hide because of Ladybug and she had no option than to follow him if she didn’t want Alya or her parents to meet a nasty fate? That Agreste’s name was still poisoning her mind after five years like it was yesterday? Or how those all things just somehow gathered together now and made her extra miserable, something, which wasn’t usual to her?

Thus, she said nothing about her emotions and feelings. Not even to Stallone. She wrote her diary every day and did her jobs, which helped a bit, thinking furiously what she could tell Chat Blanc the next time he would appear in her apartment. She hated how he dared to invade her personal, safe space like that. Villains simply had no manners, though the pain in the ass cat had clearly understood it took a little longer than 24 hours from Marinette to find the information he sought – or at least Marinette had managed to feed that lie to him successfully. She feared each day what would happen if Chat Blanc found out she was the Ladybug he so desperately tried to find, so desperately that he forced someone to help him with it. 

One evening, a day after ladybug transformation, she sat on her balcony, drinking chamomile tea, smooth and soft music playing from her computer, snaking outside quietly from the open balcony door. It was still chilly outside, as the Spring was just slowly arriving, but she liked how the city air smelled on February. The warm blanket over her shoulders kept Marinette warm and she could feel at least a bit peaceful at that moment, after a long time tossing and turning around with the anxiety. She took a sip from her warm drink, enjoying how it warmed her body as the tea traveled down her throat. Silently she assumed the Ladybug transformation and beating up the bad guys had somehow cured her bad mood, making it easier for Marinette to breathe again and concentrate on her daily routines.

She heard rustling and scraping kind of a sound from beneath her, from the other balcony. She paid no attention to it, as some of the neighbors were still awake at 1am. Marinette shrieked and dropped her mug down the balcony floor when a figure in a black cape with a hood jumped over the balcony’s edge, landing before Marinette. The cape let out a fluttering noise and Marinette backed up as much as possible, fumbling with the folded chair and with the broken mug’s pieces rolling in her feet.  She landed on her behind against the wall with a painful thud. The figure dashed nearer in a mere second, forcefully covering Marinette’s mouth with a wide palm.

“Shhh, the whole neighborhood will wake up,” a low voice spoke to her. Her eyes widened when a familiar looking face peeked underneath the black hood.

“Hhfmpmmph!” she muffled against the leather covered palm with wide eyes, purple eyes staring her back with an amused gaze.

“You should have seen yourself,” Chat Blanc sneered, keeping his hand over Marinette’s mouth, looming near her body.

She frowned at him, tearing his hand away with a forceful yank.

“What the hell is this?” she hissed venomously at Chat Blanc. He lifted his palms up in the air, tilting his head.

“Just a normal cat behavior,” he spoke, but Marinette wasn’t pleased nor amused with his reply.

“What if someone sees you here? Especially the one who shouldn’t see you?” Marinette continued her hissing, fearing that someone might call the cops and what she could tell them? No, nothing was wrong, there was no one here, and no, she definitely hadn’t made any deal with the Chat Blanc himself and taking part in some criminal activity she had no idea herself?

“That’s why I have this little dress up thing on,” Chat pointed out his cape, looking like he was actually proud of the disguise. “So, how was it? You saw her?”

Marinette paled when she heard his question. He meant yesterday’s event. She had no photos of the last time Ladybug had been around. She had been too concentrated in getting her system clear from the extra steam she hadn’t taken camera with her.

“You mean yesterday’s Ladybug’s appearance?” she whispered, careful for not letting her name slip too loudly from her tongue. Chat simply nodded eagerly and Marinette looked for the right words. “I… I wasn’t there. Sorry. I’ve got nothing new to you…”

Chat’s eyes widened at first until they squinted down into narrow lines, his mouth curving downwards.

“What do you mean you weren’t there and you’ve got nothing new?” his tone was miffed, words hissing out from between his teeth. He pushed his head closer to Marinette, like trying to find out the truth from her eyes. She kept her eyes calmly locked with Chat Blanc’s eyes, breathing steadily.

“Just what I said. I’m not at every Ladybug scene, that’s just impossible. I have my work and my life,” she explained carefully.

“Bullshit!” Chat snarled, eyes flashing, “You are so often at the same place with her so why not this time? Are you trying to play games with me? Because if you are let me remind you of the consequences and about my persuasion skills,” his hand came up to Marinette’s neck, claws pressing down to her soft skin.

“I swear that’s the truth! I can’t be there every single time she appears! This is a huge city and I---“

“You said you were a one step ahead of Ladybug. You said yourself your journalist’s intuition does its little magic and that’s why you always managed to capture her on camera before anyone else,” Chat Blanc’s face drew closer, his black hood framing his flaming purple eyes and white mask. Marinette swallowed when his claws pressed tighter around her neck.

“I’m not a psychic. I don’t see future nor her movements. I sometimes get a feeling where she might appear but not always,” she said, hoping her voice wasn’t tottering too much. She placed both of her hands over Chat Blanc’s forearm, fingers curling around outstretched arm. “This was one of the times when I sensed nothing. Do you honestly think I would go and oppose you?”

Chat inspected Marinette’s face, clearly weighting her words carefully, his eyes moving here and there, ears twitching. Then he let go of her, letting his hand drop to his side.

“Fine. I believe you,” he noted dryly, eyes still focused on Marinette.

“I promise I will give you information as soon as I can, but I can’t give you any deadlines. That’s something you have to understand if you want me to help you. It’s not that I’d do it to annoy you or avoid this. It’s reality,” Marinette rubbed her neck, her heart stammering in her chest furiously as she thought how he could kill her if he wanted to.  She could still feel the sharpness of his claws lingering on her neck.

“It’s been almost a week,” Chat’s voice was disappointed in an angry way. Marinette gave him a look underneath her brows, trying to look as apologetic as possible.

“Week is a very short time. We have to be patient and not rush. That way we also make sure she won’t get suspicious of anything,” she reasoned out loud.

Chat chewed his lower lip, turning to look away from Marinette, his eyes fixating on some invisible spot. After a short pause he finally spoke, “You’re right. I’m being impatient and it won’t lead us to our goal.”

“Yes, that’s what I’m after,” Marinette encouraged him with a quick nod. “You have to trust me in this. Co-operation works only if there’s trust.”

Chat turned his attention to Marinette, eyeing her thoughtfully.

“I’m not an idiot,” he finally scoffed, “I know how you people work with these things. You are trying to find a way out of this deal as fast as possible. There’s no reason for you to trust me, nor I have any reason to trust you. We both know what makes you obey my wishes.”

“… Is that any worse than having a common goal? The better I help you the faster this is over and the more you let me help you the quicker you’ll find your answers and your Ladybug,” Marinette quickly pointed out, not liking how she had to use term ‘your Ladybug’ in that sentence. She hoped that if she worded her plan like that it would please Chat. It would tell him Chat Blanc was above Ladybug and she was in a some crazy, twisted way his property, something he could command if he just got close enough of her – and he could only do it with Marinette’s help, as well as Marinette could release herself from this deal only with Chat Blanc’s help.

Chat was quiet, keeping Marinette anxiously waiting for his reply. He suddenly let out a tsk-sound between his lips, whipping his head to the opposite direction of Marinette.

“So I have also gotten myself into an unfavorable situation,” he muttered himself and Marinette understood it wasn’t meant for her. Thus, she said nothing, just waited if Chat Blanc had anything else to say. She didn’t quite understand what he meant with that comment, but she wasn’t interested in finding it out either.

“I promise; as soon as I find any info of Ladybug, I’ll tell you. I won’t tell media or anyone else. It’s exclusive information to you and if there’s some info I must share with the public because otherwise I will lose my job, I will still let you know the information first. And! And, if I meet Ladybug I won’t tell her anything,” Marinette listed with a hasty voice, convincing Chat that he should trust her.

Chat’s face turned to Marinette, his eyes stern and somehow unsure. She waited with a cold sweat running down her spine for Chat Blanc to say anything and he let her wait for a long, long time, the gears in his head running with a fast speed. She could tell that from the look in his eyes.

“Fine. I’m a busy man, like I said. The faster this is over the better. If it needs trust, then we have to play this with it,” he murmured with tight lips. “But I’m still the boss, don’t forget that. If you do anything I don’t like, the deal is over and that will be very unfortunate to you.”

“I understand. Marinette’s oath,” she nodded eagerly, offering her open palm to Chat Noir. He eyed her hand and the gesture with a cocked eyebrow, suspiciously. She was about to pull her hand away when he took it and shook it firmly, his eyes capturing Marinette’s blue eyes the moment their hands touched.

“Deal,” he tipped his head slightly at Marinette. There was no trace of his usual cocky grin or mocking eyes in him. No threat or danger either. His posture and eyes spoke about stern, stoic resolve.

“We need some way to keep contact. How about specific days when we meet? You don’t have to wander here randomly in a hope of some information?” Marinette suggested pulling her hand away from Chat’s palm, but Chat Blanc wrinkled his nose at her.

“I told you, cats can’t be tied down and that goes for everything. I come and go as I please.”

“Ah, figures. Well, whatever suits you the best,” she shrugged her shoulders casually.

Chat stood up, offering his hand to Marinette. She blinked at his gesture, but didn’t dare to refuse from the offer, but accepted it, being pulled on her feet by him. Chat let go of her hand as soon as she was standing on her own and glanced at Marinette, the cocky powerful stare returning. He looked like he was about to say something, but he only snorted for whatever reason, and jumped down from the balcony with a one leap.  
  
Marinette didn’t go to take a look over the balcony’s edge. Instead she stumbled inside, her heart racing and body starting to shake. While planning to get away from Chat Blanc, she had actually gotten herself even deeper into this mess. She closed the balcony’s door and sat down on the sofa, wrapping the blanket which she had had in the balcony around her tightly.

“Calm down, Marinette. There must be a way out from this,” she tottered to herself with a shaky voice, the trembling from her hands spreading to her legs. She let the bent down energy come out as shakiness, thinking and thinking and thinking. If Chat Blanc got too close to her with this deal, he would eventually find out the truth. That was Marinette’s fear number one. The second fear in the worst case scenario list was that she couldn’t offer him the information he was looking for and the deal would go on and on. It would lead to the worst case scenario number one, and that could result casualties. She even went as far as wondering if she should just go and confront Chat Blanc as Ladybug, but then she started to fear Chat Blanc would attack her as Marinette for “telling Ladybug about their deal”. Very bad thing.  
  
The longer Marinette thought about everything, the more miserable she felt herself. Right now she couldn’t see any way out from the mess she had gotten herself into.

Quietly Marinette decided to go with her original plan; to play as much time as she could with Chat Blanc. With their newly strengthened deal there was one thing Marinette hoped she could use as her advantage against Chat Blanc and his goal; the trust. If she earned Chat Blanc’s trust, he could open up more, reveal crucial information of his Ladybug plan and perhaps slip a hint how Marinette could to turn this everything for her win.

It was 4 am when she finally went to bed after mulling things over, her heart now a bit calmer but the major headache from all thinking gnawing her nerves restlessly.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fic will be going on a bit slowly pace (I think) and I hope I can write it well till the next big major event I have planned before hand. Stay tuned! Oh and thank you SO MUCH for all the comments and 80+ kudos for the FIRST chapter! You are amazing! I definitely needed this support right now.


	3. The Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Marinette meets with ghosts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been asked are kwamis present in this story and some other details. Kwamis aren't part of this world and for other questions you just have to wait and read this fic :3
> 
> Thank you for your support and comments so far! I'm surprised how well you have taken this fic already! Don't forget to drop comments to me and let me know your thoughts and feelings. Stupid comments don't exist!

On the morning of Valentine’s Day Marinette woke up feeling like a flu would have crept closer to her during last night and clogged her nose. She reached drowsily to her phone and saw that both Alya and her mother had tried to call her. She made a mental note to call her mother back when her work day at the bakery was over and send a text to Alya, saying she had a sore throat and she didn’t want to really talk today because of it – a lie but she knew Alya would get the hint. Besides, she was being occupied with Nino the whole day, so Marinette didn’t want Alya to use her precious private time with Nino on her. Marinette was a bit sad Alya had been busy lately and they hadn’t been able to see in a month soon, but she reasoned it was perhaps normal when you were so much in love with someone, like Alya was with Nino. The loved one went first in many occasions. Was that wise or not, Marinette really didn’t know.

She took her duvet with her and went to living room, rolled into the duvet like a caterpillar in a cocoon.  The leftover of her tea she had had last night stood on the living room’s table and for Marinette it was good enough of a breakfast for now, accompanied with a sandwich. Stallone was still sleeping, like always, and Marinette’s phone beeped for a text from Alya, where she said she was going to call Marinette later today. Marinette tossed the phone away, opened her TV and munched her breakfast in a thoughtful silence.

She could do this. Go through this day without crying.  Anniversary or not, she could keep her posture. She was done with the stupid moping which had lasted for too many days already.

Marinette took the day as a free day, refusing from doing any work and just idling at home, not feeling like going outside to among all the lovey-dovey couples. Her mother called her during the lunch break and Marinette knew her motherly radar was tingling because of her daughter, and while her mother carefully avoided the hurtful subject, she underlined the fact Marinette could always come to spend time at her childhood home with them, if her own apartment grew too big. Marinette appreciated her mother’s warm concern and promised to see them tomorrow, as today she would have a free day and catch up with all the movies she hadn’t managed to watch lately. Her mother understood Marinette wanted to spend time alone.

After the short phone call the day went by slowly. At one point Marinette returned the duvet back to her bed because it was getting too hot underneath it, and stretched herself over the big couch, which was taking majority of her living room’s space. It had been a present from her parents when she had moved away from home.

As the evening neared closer Marinette got a text from Alya, who apologized that their plans with Nino were going to take the whole evening and Alya would return to Marinette tomorrow.

“Figures,” she chuckled amused and tossed the phone away. She was happy Alya was having a good time with Nino, at the movies or wherever they might have been right now.

The thought brought a wincing pain to Marinette’s chest, but angrily she pushed it back, deciding it was she who was in charge, not memories. However, around 11 pm Marinette was feeling herself somewhat down again. Down and lonely. The diary entry kept repeating on her head like an old, annoying track. Besides the annoying track a knocking sound started to beat in Marinette’s head and it took a while to understand the sound wasn’t coming from her mind but from the balcony’s door.

“Oh for fuck’s sake…!” she cussed quietly getting up from the couch and going to the door, opening the curtains and being naturally face to face with Chat Blanc, the cat still playing around with his black cape and hood costume.

“What?” Marinette asked opening the door, wanting to tell him to piss off, as today was definitely the day when he shouldn’t have been here. How he even managed to find the worst possible moments to visit her?

Chat’s grin popped to the corner of his mouth, his chin rising up.

“Not a very warm greeting,” he pointed out with a mocking grin and Marinette turned on her heels, making her way back to the couch.

“I’m not feeling very warm today,” she answered truthfully, throwing herself on the sofa on her side and concentrated on the TV.

“On Valentine’s? How ironic. Can’t blame you though,” Chat sneered stepping in, closing the door and the curtains behind him and tossing the cape away. “You didn’t eat your cookies. Bad girl. Your saltiness is a way too bitter for today.”

“I ate them,” Marinette muttered, “all of them.”

“Oh? Does it mean then that you need more sugar, much more sugar?” he remarked, stepping next to the sofa. “Should I give you some?”

Marinette shuttered inwardly in a disgust at his offer, keeping her eyes at the TV screen and frowned with a wrinkled nose.

“No, thank you. Our buddy system isn’t that far yet,” she said.

“Good, then we are on the same page with this,” Chat waved his hand dramatically, drawing a shape of a heart on the air with his hands and then crushed it with a slap of his palms. “No sugar to anyone on Valentine’s,” he continued, rubbing the invisible heart between his palms into dust.

Marinette took a quick glance at him, but said nothing. Just turned her head away with a blank face. Chat took this as a sign to creep closer, bending down at Marinette’s side.

“I bet there’s someone who you’d want to shower you with cheesy gestures and disgustingly sweet sugar today, but look at you; alone here, looking miserable as shit, while couples are out there having fun. Haven’t you told him yet? Did he ditch you? I bet no one wants such a salty woman as you to spend this sweet day with,” he mocked Marinette, seemingly enjoying this opportunity to get underneath her skin.

She pursed her lips tighter with an angry look, but said nothing.

Chat eyed her carefully, inspecting the expression on Marinette’s face with a smirk.

“Come on, say something back. You’re not fun if you are quiet like that,” he finally chuckled, nudging Marinette’s shoulder with his fist. Marinette just burrowed herself deeper into the sofa.

“I can’t talk back to my boss. You will rip my limbs off if I get too sassy with you,” she replied, hoping it would stop Chat from pestering her.

Chat Blanc’s purple eyes squinted but then he let out a hearty laugh from the bottom of his stomach.

“Fair enough,” he said, jumping to sit on the footstool and pulling it closer to Marinette, “for Valentine’s sake today I’m not your boss but we’re equals. So, humor me. Tell me what makes your face so miserable. I love to hear miserable stories.”

Marinette wanted to snap back that her private life wasn’t his business, but she reasoned she couldn’t take Chat Blanc’s promise for equality today as guaranteed. She eyed Chat Blanc and his stupidly grinning face for a second, before speaking.

“If I tell you, will you tell me something about yourself? Like why for example the famous Chat Blanc is here at Valentine’s and not with someone else?” she asked, wishing he would agree with her suggestion and give her an opening to get to know him better. Maybe he would slip a crucial hint. She would play the investigative journalist for now.

“For today, you can ask something you like. You go first,” he pointed his hand at Marinette.

Marinette was taken back by how fast he agreed with her. She decided to go for something easy, not too nosy or suspicious.

“So, eh, why did you come here today? Why on Valentine’s?”

Chat cocked his head and crossed his legs, leaning towards Marinette hands in his lap.

“Because I hate Valentine’s and I have seemingly found someone who feels as strongly about it as I do,” he smirked impishly, straightening then his back before Marinette was able to comment his reply, “My turn; tell me what makes you hate Valentine’s?”

“Will you tell me in return why you hate it?” she tried her luck once more, but Chat Blanc shook his head.

“You are very slow if you don’t know the answer already.”

“… Because… you are Chat Blanc?” she offered unsurely, wondering if the villain cliché was true.

“Good, very good. Now, you have gotten two answers from me already. Your turn to sing to me. So?” he returned his attention completely to Marinette, eyes sharp over her.  

Marinette chewed the inside of her cheek, turning her head away from Chat.

“It’s… very personal matter…” she murmured, already knowing it wouldn’t be good enough of an explanation for Chat Blanc. He did, indeed, shoot it down.

“Too vague. I need more details,” Chat waved his leg over another, holding his knee with both hands, leaning back casually. “Let me hear about your messed up love life.”

Chat Blanc’s implying of Marinette just having a regular broken heart hurt Marinette. Hurt a lot more than she expected. She took a deep inhale and looked at the distance, eyes closing half way.

“I… I lost someone important on Valentine’s”, she sighed, seeing from the corner of her eye how Chat’s grin spread on his face, his expression pleased.

“Go on,” he urged with a sing-song voice and for some reason Marinette found herself continuing her story, instead of stating her answer should be enough for Chat Blanc, compared how vague answers he had given to Marinette.

“It’s not what you probably think,” she began, licking her lips, “He just… vanished.”

“Vanished? Like *boof*?” Chat spread his palms before himself, fingers widely spread, mimicking an explosion. Marinette’s sad frown just grew deeper.

“First I thought he just went somewhere. Or that he was busy. Everyone thought so. Then, there were no news of him. Police searched him high and low, but they found nothing,” Marinette paused, her chest feeling tight. She couldn’t speak.

Chat Blanc said nothing either.

“…He just disappeared,” she finally sighed, repeating herself, “Like the ground would have swallowed him. I… I went to search him myself, too. I hoped I would have found some clue, some hint. Something. Can you believe it? All the work I did, all the people I interviewed, all the days and nights and the free time I went through Paris and I found nothing. Not even a single hair,” her voice tottered a bit, eyes slowly filling with tiny tears. “Well, if something, it made me want to become a journalist. Guess I’m kind of hoping to find him, still.”

Chat had stopped waving his leg and just stared Marinette with a stern face. She didn’t see it. It was difficult to see, so Marinette quickly wiped the moisture away from her eyelashes.

“They didn’t find the body but his family… they wanted some closure,” she sobbed, hastily composing herself with a sad chuckle. “Sorry, I know I’m pathetic. It’s been five years now. The sixth year will start tomorrow.”

“So, the family gave up on him, huh?” Chat Blanc muttered and Marinette wasn’t sure was he truly listening to her or just silently enjoying how miserable she was.

“I don’t know, but they… There was a funeral. I didn’t attend it. Maybe they wouldn’t have even let me in. I thought many times that I should pay a visit to his grave but I couldn’t,” she continued, taking a long pause before whispering with a shaky sniff, “I promised myself that this year I’ll do it... This day I go there, for it’s the anniversary… That I should remember him somehow, pay him a tribute of some sort, but I couldn’t…” Marinette hid her face, shivering, “…I’m sorry...”

Chat Blanc’s face was unemotional and unreadable, his lips pressed together into a thin line.

“I… I think… I think… Perhaps… I’m not sure but perhaps a part of me made me believe that if I didn’t see the grave, there would be a chance for him to come back… even though when I understand the grave is empty and there’s nothing inside, it’s still what it is; a grave. An ending. A point of no return… I….” Marinette sputtered, not being able to finish what she was about to say. Her eyes and heart hurt like it had been just a yesterday since Adrien Agreste had vanished into thin air with no traces.  She couldn’t stop her tears from flooding out.

When Chat said nothing, Marinette wiped her eyes, took a shaky deep breath and turned to Chat with a small smile.

“There. You got it. My miserable Valentine’s. I hope you are happy,” she stated, noticing how Chat’s grin had disappeared and how his eyes had no trace of humor in them.

His side of a mouth twitched. He looked like he wanted to say something but wasn’t exactly sure how to put it into words. Then he sneered suddenly, leaning towards Marinette with his long fangs flashing.

“Oh, but aren’t you in luck then,” he murmured, standing up and going before Marinette’s face, sitting down on the floor casually and leaning on his elbow on the edge of the sofa, his arm almost touching Marinette.

“I--- what?” she didn’t follow him, feeling hurt even more when his sneer didn’t disappear. Of course she should have already known a villain was interested only of his own good, of anything which served them.

“If you work for me and do our job good – very good – I can help you with this matter,” Chat Blanc noted, his hand rising up to Marinette’s cheek, “You can find this man of yours, alive or dead, but find him nevertheless. Think about it;” he slid his thump over the trail of tears, his eyes following his finger’s movement, “the journalist Marinette Cheng finding out the truth of the missing man, giving closure for the whole thing, not only for herself but for his family. The police would also praise you for sure. Perhaps it would even make a good scoop,” his voice was alluring, velvety, his touch oddly tender.

Marinette’s eyes widened, her heart almost stopping at his words. His eyes shifted from his finger to Marinette’s eyes, the deep purple tone looking almost shimmering from the close distance. His stare was full of such intensity Marinette couldn’t look away.

“I… I doubt you have such an ability to find a missing person, unless it was you who killed him,” Marinette muttered, staying still.

Chat Blanc retrieved his hand and placed both of his elbows on the sofa’s edge, leaning on them looming over Marinette, his smile widening from ear to ear.

“Not yet, but with your help I will. How familiar you are with the Ladybug’s miraculous?” he asked, his blond hair falling down to frame his pale face.

Marinette stared at Chat Noir, his closeness too much for her comfort.

“Me?” she squeaked. “I know that miraculouses are magical items but that’s all I know,” she lied.

 “Maybe you should ask her the next time you two meet,” Chat’s tone was amused, his eyes inspecting her face.

“Are you after her miraculous?” she asked hastily and Chat Blanc chuckled at Marinette, tapping the tip of her nose with his finger.

“My reason of getting closer to Ladybug is still a secret. I don’t trust you that much yet,” he tapped her nose again, “But I trust you enough to tell you this; Ladybug’s miraculous is very powerful item, as is also my miraculous.”

Marinette knew what he meant; his ring. She remained silent underneath Chat’s upper body’s shadow.

“The story goes that these two miraculouses should never fall into same hands, as they are too powerful together. Do you know why?” he tilted his head to the side.

She hastily shook her head. In all honesty Marinette had no idea of what Chat Blanc was telling.

“Because Ladybug’s miraculous creates and mine destroys. Creation and destruction. Ying and Yang. The complete absolution. How does that sound to you?” his grin was impish, almost mischievous, like he was enjoying this little riddle game himself.

She inspected his eyes and face, trying to read the answer from his expression. Suddenly her eyes widened.

“...A God,” Marinette gasped, not believing what she was saying. Not believing her ears nor Chat’s smile which proved she had hit the jackpot.

“But there’s no way power like God’s exists! That’s a way too dangerous!” Marinette explained with gaping mouth, shifting her position in the shock. Chat Blanc remained still and laughed loudly.

“That’s why the miraculouses are kept separated and never given to a same person. It’s rare that the holders themselves know about this because, you know, the power corrupts,” he stopped, grinning down at Marinette, “However, if you work for me, if you please me and follow my commands as a true partner in crime, I will borrow my ring for you with her earrings when the time is right. Then you get to find out to where your man vanished.”

“How—how do you know all this? And why would you even help me like that? You won’t gain anything from it,” Marinette was still dazed by this sudden realization. Mostly it scared her to realize that Chat’s offer of helping her with Adrien’s case was an alluring offer, pulling her closer and twisting her heart with a hopeful squeeze.

“Oh, you make me a lot more heartless and soulless than I truly am,” Chat pretended to sound hurt, his lower lip pouting. “I’ve got my reliable sources and unlike you assume, I will gain a lot from it, as will you, too. It’s a win-win. An offer of a life time. You’d be an idiot if you didn’t accept it. Take it as… a Valentine’s present from me,” he grinned again at the end of his sentence.

Marinette hesitated. She was torn between two choices, her own wants and needs pushing on against her sense of justice and moral.

Chat saw her hesitation and laughed, gently placing his fingers on top of Marinette’s forehead.

“I know this is an odd offer, but I assure you that Chat Blanc always keeps his promises,” he trailed his fingers on Marinette’s skin slowly down to her lips. “Don’t you want to know where he is now? If he’s alive or not? After getting your answer you could let go properly or run back into his arms. Get a final closure to that pain which gnaws your soul so restlessly, making Valentine’s a hell on Earth and his grave the emptiest and hollowest place on the whole planet, right after your own heart?” he breathed out, his voice running over Marinette’s skin.

She couldn’t speak, couldn’t find any words. The time seemed to stop, stay still, linger around her without any single movement. She wanted to say yes. She wanted to know the truth. She was tired of mourning Adrien.

“Though, I must say, if he’s really dead I won’t be bringing people back life,” Chat quickly pointed out, stopping his fingers on her lips.

“The power like God’s but not real God itself,” Marinette murmured, squinting her eyes. Chat nodded, waiting for her reply to his offer, removing his hand from her face.

“…A—Alright. I’ll do my very best if you promise me you will keep your promise,” Marinette said with determined eyes, her cheeks flushing.

“You don’t have to question about it. A deal is a deal,” he replied, moving away from Marinette’s side and standing up.

Slowly Marinette stumbled up from the sofa, sitting up and looking at Chat Blanc’s back which he had turned to Marinette. She wasn’t sure had she done the right choice, but agreeing with him would at least be favorable to Marinette in a long run.

“Alright, let’s go,” Chat suddenly spoke. He turned on his heels towards Marinette, who simply blinked at him with parted lips.

“…To where?”

“Outside.”

“Now? Do you realize the streets are full of people this night?” Marinette didn’t like the idea of being spotted with Chat Blanc. Her parents would get a heart attack if they heard of it.

He lifted his hands to his hips, giving Marinette a squint.

“That’s not the issue. Did he live here? That man of yours?”

“You mean Paris? Yeah…” her voice rose up, eye brow cocking with a questioning manner.

“Then it means the grave should be here, too?” Chat inquired.

Marinette bounced up from her seat with a one jump, eyes size of two plates.

“No, we can’t!” she gasped, feeling how the trembling was trying to get to her fingers again, the shivers she had already gotten rid of returning.

“I want to remind you why you are doing this. What’s the ultimate price. On top of that I won’t get anything from a sniveling buddle of an emotional wreck of a woman,” he scoffed, his annoyance loud and clear in his posture.

Marinette took a step back. This had to be some kind of a trick. Some kind of a plan he thought to be a good one in some way he wasn’t telling her. She was sure Chat Blanc had something nasty in his sleeve. Maybe he wanted to see her suffer more. Perhaps it was his kink to make her cry. Or, was it possible he was reminding Marinette about her position, how the answer she had sought for so desperately, for so long, was in his claws, and only he could grand it to her?

“Well?”

Chat’s voice brought Marinette back to the reality, and quickly she composed herself, hiding her thoughts deep into her core.

“I, I need a moment,” she said, excusing herself into the bedroom. Chat stood waiting in the living room, surprisingly patiently, and soon Marinette returned with a piece of folded paper. She pushed it into her jean’s back pocket.

“Okay, I’m ready,” Marinette shot a direct look at Chat Blanc’s face, wishing he didn’t see how much she actually feared this idea. She turned off her TV and lights, following Chat Blanc to the balcony, liking the idea of going out even less when she was able to hear chattering coming from the streets.

Chat took his cape, which he had picked up from the living room’s floor to lay over his forearm, and handed it to Marinette.

“Put this on. The city is used to see me but it’s the best if you aren’t seen with me,” he simply stated.

His vibe as completely different from the previous meetings and Marinette pondered if this was his way of odd bonding with her, for the sake of his own mission. She said nothing about the matter though, only wrapped the cape around her shoulders, closing it tightly and pulling the hood deep over her head. It was a way too big for her.

“Where is he?” Chat asked.

“At Montmartre,” she whispered, feeling herself suddenly very weak. Out of energy and spurt. Not even the negative mindset was there. It was just… somehow empty.

As Chat Blanc knelt down in front of Marinette, gesturing her to a picky bag ride, Marinette couldn’t help the feeling that she was afraid of losing Adrien’s ghost which she had nourished her heart all these years. Like everything of him would disappear if she went to his grave. Yet, there was no turning back, not now. Playing against Chat Blanc’s ideas and suggestions could backfire, leaving Marinette with more people to mourn than just the young son of media mogul Agreste. Quietly she allowed Chat to carry her on his back, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and thinking it wouldn’t hurt her if he dropped her. Dropped down to the pavement covered streets. If Marinette was lucky, she would hit her head and forget everything.

Chat’s Blanc agility on the roof tops was amazing, she gave him that much. The scenery just flew pass them as Chat made their way to the cemetery, which was closed from public at this time of the late evening. The closer their destination they got, the heavier Marinette felt her body becoming. When Chat finally jumped over the cemetery wall’s and landed into the quiet area, Marinette couldn’t keep her hold on him any longer. She was glad Chat Blanc didn’t seem to notice her weakness, as he slid her down from his back as soon as his feet touched the sandy ground. Marinette pulled the black hood away from her face, fighting back the tears.

“Here we are,” Chat grinned with a purr, standing next to Marinette.

“Yeah… Thanks,” her reply was rather weak.

“Do you know where to go? This is a wide place,” Chat asked crossing his arms, looking miffed now that he realized that finding a one specific grave from the giant cemetery would be a horrible task and take hours of work.

“Yes, I know the location. I looked it up many times thinking I would come here but… I just couldn’t….” she rubbed her fingers over her heart, not really wanting to pay his grave any visit this time either.

“Lead the way,” Chat gestured, pointing the area with his outstretched arm.

Marinette kept her face forward, starting to walk with slow, quiet steps. She knew where they were and to where she should go. She heard how Chat Blanc was walking just behind her and how her a way too long cape dragged the ground. The light was dim at the graveyard, just enough for her to see. City’s sounds were audible around them, but the cemetery itself was silent.

They walked quietly, Marinette in the lead, for a good while, until she spotted a crossroad where the avenue crossed with another one, tall tombs and statues greeting her on her left.

She knew this was the aisle.  
  
Her hands were shaking and she had to stay there for a while, summoning up all the courage she had in her body to take the next step along the avenue going left.

Marinette didn’t notice how Chat Blanc stopped on his tracks, staying behind at the crossroad as she continued her way to the tall row of tombstone, a beautiful black monument with a weeping statue of a fair, young woman, sitting nearby it. The closer she got to the statue, the tighter and more pained her chest crew. The last few steps were the hardest ones, but finally Marinette was there, standing before the Agreste family grave.

It had a name of Adrien’s mom on it and underneath her name laid his name.

She couldn’t stop the big tears from rolling down on her cheeks. Biting her lip Marinette let out a loud sob, squeezing the edges of the black cape into her palms. They offered no comfort. Shaking she fished the paper piece from her pocket, opening it slowly. It trembled between her fingers.

“Adrien,” she managed to say with a weak voice, “forgive me I couldn’t find you. I’m sorry that I never… I’m sorry…” Marinette pressed her forehead against the piece of paper, sobbing openly.

It still hurt so much. Too much.

Slowly she let go of the paper and placed it gently on the root of the big grave stone, smiling an apologetic way.

“This is all I have for you… It’s nothing much but… I hope you like it,” she whispered, standing up and looking at the name on the stone, the gold lettered engraving still so very shiny and new. Marinette ran her fingers through the name, feeling every small detail of it, and couldn’t suppress her tears. She wailed, shoulders shaking, ashamed for not being able to help Adrien. Wailing she buried her face into her palms, crying, crying, crying.

They had asked her help. Asked Ladybug to search for Adrien. She had done it, also looking for him as Marinette. But no use. There was nothing she could do and no matter how hard she pushed herself, how much she tried, Adrien was gone. But if what Chat Blanc had said was true, she could finally find out what had happened to him. Was he alive somewhere? Healthy and well? Had he been kidnapped? Killed? Had he gotten himself into an accident and no one knew about it? Marinette feared what she would see with Ladybug’s earrings and Chat Blanc’s ring.

She couldn’t let Chat Blanc have her earrings. It was the fact. She needed to get rid of him some way. Get the ring from him, as if what he said was true, she couldn’t let someone like Chat Blanc get a power almost equal to God’s into his possession. Thus her old plan seemed still the best one; to buy time. To get to know Chat. Win his trust in a way or another.

Marinette lifted her chin up, letting her hands drop down to her sides. She took a look at her right, noticing how Chat Blanc was still standing there in the far distance. She gave a final look at the grave and left then without any extra words, without any parting message. Her head hung low when she walked to Chat Blanc, feeling exhausted and not even wanting to wipe her face or look like she wasn’t hurting. She could feel Chat’s eyes on her, but either he was bored of waiting or clever enough not to say anything stupid. Some silent tears still ran down on her wet cheeks.

“Ready?” was the only word he let out from his lips. Marinette nodded at him, pulling the hood back over her head and hiding her red eyes with it.

“So, you understand now how important it is to work with me?” Chat Blanc asked, earning another nod with a small ‘yeah’ from Marinette, the exhausted woman getting on his back with a one movement.

She sunk her moist face against Chat’s shoulder, feeling the upcoming headache already knocking the corners of her skull. Chat said something, but Marinette didn’t hear him. Apparently it wasn’t anything important as Chat didn’t repeat it, just took off from the cemetery with the same speed and agility he had brought them there with in the first place. In no time they were back at Marinette’s balcony, the door back to her apartment slightly open. She slid down from his hold without saying anything.

“Now that we have dealt with this, let’s go back to our business, shall we?” Chat Blanc’s voice was loud in Marinette’s ears. She nodded, looking at Chat’s face.

“Yes, it sounds good. Promise me you keep your promise,” Marinette plead, pondering where that even came from.

Chat’s eyes flashed and his mouth drew into a think line, but it happened in a so quick flash Marinette barely saw it. He grinned quickly from ear to ear, looking pleased.

“I have no problems with keeping my promises, if you keep yours and work for them,” he shifted his weight to another leg, eyes keenly over Marinette.

She narrowed her blue eyes.

“You can bet I will,” she hissed with a stoic voice. Her determination was granted with Chat Blanc’s widening grin.

“Well, then, sleep well. I’ll drop by again someday,” he bent over to a bow, disappearing then from Marinette’s sight.

She realized he had left his cape behind. It was still hanging on her. She thought it was a perfect opportunity for Chat Blanc to come to her home again. Probably he did that intentionally.

Rubbing her eyes Marinette stepped inside her home, thinking she needed a cup of tea and mom’s croissants.

Adrien’s ghost was still burning in her soul, feeling more vivid than ever before.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Chat Blanc ran fast over the Parisian roofs, hearing how sometimes someone spotted him and yelled his name. He didn’t care about that, but continued his journey forward, a deep frown running through his forehead. His eyes were stoic and mouth hard when he landed the ground of Montmartre, hastily making his way through the tracks of Marinette. He found the right crossroad and stomped to the black, tall grave monument, stopping before the Agreste’s family grave.

Chat’s eyes narrowed, his gaze hardening as he scanned the golden writing on the tomb stone, staring silently the grave with a stern expression. Snatching the white folded paper, which Marinette had left there, with a one quick move of his hand, Chat Blanc opened it and read the neatly written text, stained with her tears;

_I love you._


	4. The Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Marinette finds something out regarding Chat Blanc.

Marinette’s tea kettle was whistling quietly, telling Marinette it was time to get up from her sofa and go to the kitchen, as the water would be ready soon. She loved her open kitchen, which gave her opportunity to cook and watch TV at the same time, but she wasn’t that pleased with the fact that Chat Blanc was yet again lurking in her apartment. He had left her alone for a day, perhaps for the sake of letting Marinette mourn in peace her loss after visiting the graveyard, but then he was back, like always.

Marinette had decided to take this visitation as casually as possible, wishing it would appear to Chat Blanc as Marinette thought him as her friend, and maybe it would help Chat to open up with his plans and Ladybug obsession. Thus, she had put tea water on, telling Chat she didn’t have any of her mother’s bread this time, but if he liked, she could make him a sandwich.

The cat declined this sandwich offer of hers, watching how Marinette made her way to the kettle, which was now whistling with a high pitched whiz.

“How do you know Agrestes?”

Marinette lifted her head up, surprised by Chat’s question. “Wha—what?” she tottered with wide eyes, completely taken back by Chat’s sudden question. She spun around to face Chat Blanc fully.

He stood in the middle of the living room, all tall and strong, eyes stony and fiery. He lowered his chin, eyes drilling into Marinette’s soul.

“I saw the grave. The man’s you were talking about. It belonged to the world famous Agreste family. How do you know them?” he asked again with a low voice, eyes deep with the purple color.

“…Does it really matter?” she sighed, already tired of this conversation. Why was he even asking that, she didn’t know. Marinette turned her attention back to the tea kettle, taking it off from the stove. “I thought you came here for the Ladybug. A few days ago I—“

“You don’t strike me as someone who befriends with the nowadays nobility,” Chat cut Marinette immediately off. It felt off to Marinette, but she didn’t let him see it.

“Well, you meet lots of people when you’re a journalist,” Marinette brushed Chat’s notion away casually, picking tea package from the cupboard. She took two bags from it and closed its lid.

“Liar!” Chat Blanc spat, being now just behind Marinette’s back and startling her with his voice. She spun around and dropped the tea package on the floor. His eyes were just two narrow lines, frown drawn deeply over his forehead. “You said you became journalist because of this case. You knew him. How?”

“Seriously, I don’t know why you are so interested in this so suddenly,” Marinette relaxed a bit, bending down to pick the dropped tea package up. “Are you trying to rub more salt into my wounds with all this? Because if you are, I really don’t need it…”

“The movements of my mind aren’t your concern,” he growled, “I’m growing impatient if I’m not being answered to my questions fast enough and I warn you, my patience is very thin right now.”

Marinette gave Chat Blanc a look underneath her cocked eyebrow, but the man didn’t budge. Just stood before her with a demanding posture, looking like it was indeed wise to listen to him and be honest. Marinette sighed, thinking she might as well do as he wanted her to. After all he had seen the dirtiest part of this whole subject so far. She reminded herself about the plan of bonding with Chat Blanc more.

“We went to same school,” she simply said, turning her back to Chat and pouring hot water into two mugs.

“When?”

“At junior high. Well, not for long though, but anyway. I can’t say I’d know Agrestes myself. I just happened to be at the same school with their son Adrien,” she dipped the tea bags couple of times before leaving them in the water. Marinette turned carefully around and offered other one of the mugs to Chat.

“What do you mean with ‘not for long’?” he questioned Marinette, eyeing the offered tea suspiciously but accepted it eventually.

Marinette leaned back against the kitchen counter, crossing her arms with a tea mug at her hand.

“He didn’t go the same school with me for long, just for a few months. Almost three if I remember right. Then he was transferred into home schooling - back to it I mean. That’s what we were told by teachers back then,” Marinette explained, taking a sip from her mug.

Chat’s eye brows knit together underneath his white mask.

“Was there something wrong with the school then?” he asked. Marinette shrugged her shoulders and looked somewhat forlorn.

“Not really, but… you know, a famous face, someone like Adrien Agreste, in a regular junior high. What’s that going to cause there? A commotion. All girls were after him and boys were jealous of him. Sometimes paparazzi were lurking near our school. He really had difficulties with fitting in I guess, but I don’t know the details. I heard rumors that his grades started to go worse because all of this. I felt kind of sorry for him…”

Chat said nothing, just looked at Marinette with a thoughtful face. He didn’t touch his tea.

“So you really didn’t know him,” he noted with a hiss.

“No, not in that sense,” Marinette’s forlorn face crew only darker and she turned her head away from Chat, drinking her tea silently.

“From all your bawling and acting oh so hurtful I thought there was at least something going on between you and the man, but now I hear it’s the fucking Adrien Agreste, who you didn’t even know, the man you have been hunting down and crying after. How pathetic,” Chat Blanc snorted angrily.

“I am hurt!” Marinette spat quickly back, feeling her fury rising for Chat Blanc even daring to imply she didn’t care about Adrien.

“That’s nothing but some delusional shit. A love for an idol, pink cloud castles built inside your head for a celebrity, who just happened to walk in the same building with you for a few months. Are you seriously making a deal with me for someone like him? For ‘a love’ like that?” he sounded pissed off.

“You can’t see inside my heart! You can’t feel what I feel! Call it whatever you want, but I know it’s love!” Marinette slammed her mug on the counter’s surface, glaring at Chat. He glared back at her with same intensity.

“What makes you believe it’s nothing more than a teenager’s wet dream gone on for too long?”

“Why are you suddenly so interested in knowing if my love for Adrien Agreste is real or not?” Marinette stepped closer to Chat Blanc, her eyes flaming.

“Because I don’t need a delusional woman as my helper. I don’t need someone as weakly minded as you seem to be. Someone so fable. Oh, The Great Saint Marinette Cheng loving every single handsome face, because they make her heart flutter a bit and her groins grow hot, calling it as love,” Chat hissed at her between his gritted fangs, tilting his head side to side with the mocking.

“You are free to leave if you want. The door is that way, you can find your way out if my services aren’t needed anymore,” Marinette sizzled back, her eye corners starting to glimmer, “I will find the truth out of Adrien Agreste myself then. I do everything I can to find him, even strike a deal with the Paris’s most dangerous and well known villain, for my own safety’s expense, for my loved ones’ expense as I can’t do nothing if you, the villain, want to hurt them,” she stopped, a single tear traveling down on her angry face. “If that’s not love, I don’t know what is. I. Love. Him. No one else needs to believe it. I don’t care how people label my love for him. I don’t even care I never got to tell him how I felt. I have loved him, from the very first second I saw him walking in the corridors of my school, like the angel itself would have landed on the Earth and opened something inside my soul, something a mere teenager couldn’t put into words!” Marinette stopped, taking a shaky breath, more angry tears now on her cheeks, “Don’t you even dare to imply I haven’t been thinking this whole mess myself! That I haven’t spent countless of times pondering if my love is true or if I have ‘built the pink castles’ around Adrien and myself as a delusional teenager, but let me tell you, I have found my answer and it’s love! Nothing makes you ache like I do for years, after years, after years, and even when you think you have finally managed to free yourself from the ghost of the past and you are healed, the pain comes back every time you see his name or get a glimpse of his face, either in real life of in your nightmares. My love and devotion to Adrien Agreste is so insane I think I will die if I can’t find out what happened to him.” Marinette voice was wavering, her eyes turning from angry to a deep, hurtful sadness, her gaze piercing Chat Blanc’s body, “Do you think this is fun? Do you honestly think I torture myself because I get some sick pleasure from this? Because of some delusional fangirling? I’d give this burden away if I could, but as long as I don’t find out the truth of Adrien Agreste’s story, it will eat my soul away bit by bit.”

She finally stopped, her breathing heavy, eyes full of tears but no sobbing coming out from her parted lips. She felt exhausted, tired, wiping her face after the sudden outburst of fury he had managed to summon up.

Chat Blanc stared at her with an odd, stoic look on his face, his posture unreadable. He swallowed slightly.

“…Very well. You don’t need to lecture me twice,” he spoke casually, his eyes still locked with Marinette’s. “People do crazy things for love, I get that, and if that’s your solution for the deal with me, then so be it. But, if you start to go crazy or disobey me, I will ditch you in a blink of an eye with no remorse. ”

“So, we are done with this subject?” she wiped her face with her palm, earning a short nod from Chat Blanc.

“Yes we are.”

“Good!” Marinette huffed, taking her mug and stomping past Chat Blanc, making her way to the sofa and sitting down with a loud thud.

Chat stood a while in the open kitchen, looking at Marinette’s back of a head. He put his mug down and walked to her, standing behind the couch.

“This is all for this time. I shall return again. Next time I want news of Ladybug,” he said dryly.

“Speaking of which, I was about to tell you that I went through my old archives and found some Ladybug information. Nothing much, but seems that she has been spotted quite often in South-East parts,” she lied to Chat with a poker face. Her heart was still beating fast after the adrenaline rush her temper had caused just a moment ago. She felt herself a bit embarrassed for flaring up like that.

“South-East? Where exactly?” Chat’s voice sounded like he didn’t believe in Marinette’s words.

“Around Paris-Gare de Lyon’s station,” Marinette threw that one out from her ass.

Chat was quiet behind her.

“Why would she be there…?” he pondered, his outfit rustling with the shift of his weight to another leg.

“Beats me, but that’s all I got for you now. You said all info is essential, right?”

When Chat didn’t say anything, Marinette continued hastily, “Though most likely it’s the best to circle around the tourist attractions. Tourists attract also bad guys and all bad guys love to freak havoc in the most crowded areas.”

“…I guess you’re right. I check out your lead. I’m growing impatient with her…” he growled, clearly frustrated. Marinette was about to comment his remark, but Chat turned and walked to balcony’s door, taking a final look over his shoulder to Marinette. His eyes were narrow.

“I hope you find that man of yours, when the time is right,” he stated, surprising Marinette.

“I—I hope so, too,” she tottered, unsure of was that even the right answer to Chat Blanc or should she had said it aloud.

He replied nothing. Just went on his way, like always, leaving Marinette to ponder when he would appear again, as randomly as always.

 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

 

Chat Blanc didn’t appear to her in weeks. Marinette started to think he had given up with everything and she suddenly found herself fearing that her opportunity to find out the truth of Adrien’s destiny was gone with him. Perhaps she had indeed came across as a feeble woman with the whole matter? Perhaps she had scared Chat Blanc and he had started to suspect Marinette would do anything to find Adrien, even oppose Chat himself? All kind of fearful thoughts darted around her mind.

It would have been easy to find Chat Blanc as Ladybug, even get his ring, but Marinette didn’t like the idea of crossing swords with Chat Blanc as Ladybug – it would cause media riot, in a worst case scenario that is. As he was looking for her, it was the best to stay hidden, until Marinette had a clear vision of what Chat was really after – she still suspected the earrings – and how she could manage with everything without revealing her civilian identity to Chat Blanc. She also refused to go out as Ladybug for the very same reason, until the emergency really needed her attention. Luckily the criminals of Paris sort of agreed with her and didn’t cause much uproar, at least nothing a regular police force wouldn’t be able to handle.

Around a month and a half passed without Marinette transforming to Ladybug, and a month without Chat Blanc poking his nose into her life in anyway, and Marinette’s daily life started to get most of her attention during that time. She worked, wrote extra hard other things now when Ladybug was “having a holiday” like she suggested to every editor-in-chief who asked had she heard anything of Ladybug, and spend more time helping her parents to run their bakery. After one very, very, very early emergency morning shift at the bakery Marinette was dead tired when she finally stepped into her apartment. Without any further notice she simply dragged herself into the bedroom at the bright early afternoon day, changed into comfortable top and pajama, and dozed off immediately.

She woke up around 6 pm, feeling refreshed, well rested and hungry. The idea of simple noodle soup sounded extremely inviting to Marinette. She fed Stallone and proceed then to feed herself with the secret noodle recipe taught by her mother.

Marinette was feeling happy today. She felt herself dancing and humming a bit her favorite song, which she did, while the soup ingredients were cooking, emitting wonderful scent of warm food all over her apartment. She picked her favorite bowl and filled it completely with the soup, snatching fresh orange juice from the fridge to go with it, and settling down to eat it front of her laptop in the living room. She opened the laptop’s lid, rubbing her hands together pleased before taking her spoon into her hand and dipping into the steaming soup.

Marinette’s first spoonful was cut in short when her balcony’s door let out a horrible bang, like something would have hit it with full force. She bounced up with a scream, the spoon in her hold flying down the floor, Marinette hastily turning to balcony’s direction. A cold shiver ran through Marinette’s core; had her truth been spilled out? Was it Chat Blanc? Had he figured out who Marinette truly was? Was he or someone else coming for her head?

The door trembled forcefully, clattering on its hinges, and just when Marinette was ready to fight back whatever the intruder was, the door flew open, pulling down her long curtain from a curtain trail with horrible ruckus. A figure coming in tangled itself with the curtain and the whole scene looked like a colorful ghost would have appeared into Marinette’s living room. Marinette spotted a familiar looking white tail and before her brain even registered what had happened, she had already opened her mouth.

“Wha--?! What’s the meaning of this?!” she yelled angrily, jumping up to her feet, her fists balled. “You better---“

Chat’s head came visible underneath the curtain, which had fallen over him, and he tossed the fabric away. His face was awfully pale.

Marinette noticed his suit wasn’t just white anymore. His left side had an enormous red stain on it, a stain, which streamed down to his waist and hip between his fingers. Her breath got stuck in her throat.

“Help me to stop the bleeding,” Chat croaked with a pale and pained face, stumbling forward, hand pressing the wound.

Marinette made hastily her way to Chat, completely dumbfounded. She got a hold of his body as he staggered forward, lying down slowly. Marinette noticed he had another wound on his back, on right.

“What the hell happened? Chat, we need to get you to hospital!” she cried, looking how the blood found its own on the floor when Chat lied on his back.

“Just stop the bleeding…” he grunted eyes closed.

“I- I’m not a doctor, this can be bad...!” Marinette explained with wide eyes.

“Just do it!” he spat angrily, shooting a death glare at Marinette. She nodded, still confused of what was going on. She jumped up, closing the balcony’s door, no one needed to witness her tending Chat Blanc, and rushed then to bathroom. Soon she came back with rolls and bandages, disinfection liquid and towels.

“This is all I have, I don’t have proper equipment…!” Marinette tottered, still not believing what was going on.

“It will do,” Chat noted, looking a lot more pained than he sounded like.

With trembling fingers Marinette pulled Chat Blanc’s suit open, giving him an apologetic look. He didn’t see it, as he had closed his eyes again.

“I need you to sit up, so that I can remove your suit a bit from the upper body,” she pointed out when the zipper reached its end. He opened his eyes and told as asked, pulling his left arm free from sleeve by himself. Then he turned to his right hand, taking a hold of his ring.

“No!” Marinette yelled hastily, scared. “No need to take your ring off, I think I can reach the wounds from this side,” she stated, horrified that she would see Chat Blanc’s true personality behind his mask. She didn’t want to learn that.

“No sweat,” he breathed out and to Marinette’s disbelief pulled his bright white ring off. It came off smoothly and Chat moaned in discomfort.

His transformation didn’t disappear.

Chat struggled himself out from his suit with Marinette’s help, letting the upper part of the suit fall down to his waist. Marinette didn’t believe her eyes. The miraculous transformation should be connected to the miraculous item itself and disappear as soon as the item was taken off from the holder during transformation, that far Marinette knew, but it was wiser to talk about that later – if Chat wanted to talk about it. She pressed a towel down on the floor, asking Chat to lie on top of it so that his right side’s wound would be against the towel, and concentrated to press his left’s side’s wound with her both hands, blood seeping into the towel. Cleaning it up revealed the wound to be a tiny, neat hole.

“What on Earth happened?” Marinette tried again, her hands already all bloody when she started to press the wound with a towel again, as the blood still kept coming out too much. Chat exhaled loudly, frowning.

“I made a mistake,” he simply noted.

“Quite a mistake I must say!” Marinette shook her head, hoping the bleeding would stop soon. “Don’t you go dying on me, I don’t want to have anyone to die on me, not even Chat Blanc.”

He let out a dry chuckle, eyes closed.

“I won’t die, but the bleeding needs to stop. It makes me weak in the head.”

“No shit, you look almost as white as your suit,” Marinette’s eye brows knit together into a deep worried frown. “So, what happened?”  
  
Chat opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling with a distant look on his eyes. Marinette thought she was almost able to see some sadness in them.

“I was frustrated there had been no signs of Ladybug in ages, so I went and tried to provoke her out,” he explained, gritting his teeth so that his fangs were flashing.

Marinette paled. She hadn’t heard anything of this incident, as she had been sleeping all day. She remained silent, letting Chat continue, hoping he hadn’t hurt anyone badly.

“I didn’t realize that the citizens were also freaked out by the sudden disappearance of Ladybug. Police was a bit paranoid,” he tried to laugh, wincing in pain when his chest and stomach heaved too strongly with the attempted chuckle.

“Wha—What do you mean by that?” Marinette asked calmly despite the fact she was screaming and sweating mentally.

“Let’s just say the police took the matter on their own hands, with guns,” he turned his purple eyes at her.

“They… shot you?” she gasped out loud with a shocked voice. Chat’s reply was just a small grunt.

“But… but I thought miraculous uniforms are indestructible! How come a bullet got through it?” she asked in a disbelief, noticing the bleeding wasn’t so bad anymore. He did, indeed, heal fast, but Marinette knew it was partly due his suit.

“Better; it went through me. It pierced this suit twice. It shouldn’t be possible, but it was. That was rather nasty looking rifle,” Chat murmured with an amused look, crying out with pain when Marinette pressed the disinfection soaked cloth on the wound.

She felt a bit bad for it.

“That’s… unbelievable…” Marinette muttered being deep in her thoughts as she kept cleaning the wound despite Chat’s vocal protests and cussing. He had clearly been shot but regular bullets shouldn’t be able to pierce their outfits.

“Has your suit… well… eh… stopped working like this before?” she tried to sound like she didn’t know much about miraculous uniforms.

“No, this is the first time,” Chat said with a stern look, wincing again with the pain. The air smelled like alcohol and blood and he wrinkled his nose to it, his face relaxing when Marinette stopped torturing him with the disinfection liquid.

“This is cleaned now. I’ll wrap this first and then I have to take care of the wound the bullet left as it came out from the backside,” she informed him calmly, but the frown on her face didn’t disappear. Marinette continued, “Is it possible the police force had some special weapons or bullets?”

“Could be. I think they have been thinking the possibility of Ladybug not always being here protecting the citizens. Maybe they have been testing and manufacturing something hidden shit for a long time,” Chat’s voice was as serious as Marinette’s, before a weak mewl came out from his mouth, “Fucking shit…”

“I’m almost done. I’ll give you painkillers then. You can rest here as long as you want, if you have nothing against it,” she soothed him, placing dressings over the hole, noticing at the same time his ring on the floor from the corner of her eye. It was so close. So very close… Almost at her reach… If she could get it, she would find Adrien…

Chat blinked at Marinette’s suggestion for a couple of times. Then he relaxed, exhaled loudly through his nose and smiled a bit.

“Such a Mother Teresa,” he groaned, watching how Marinette glued the last piece of skin tape on his side.

“But I warn you; if you start to go too weak, I will call the ambulance, alright?”

“So sweet to worry about me,” he smirked from ear to ear, but the smirk was lacking its usual touch. Instead it came out tired. “Don’t worry, I will heal fast with this,” Chat said and took his ring from the floor, putting it back on. Marinette felt a bit disheartened at that sight, but she quickly reminded herself that there were other times coming when she could obtain Chat’s ring for herself. She just needed to keep her eyes open and stay alert. Keep Chat Blanc near.

“How does that help?” she questioned, urging Chat to sit up and turn around on his stomach.

“It gives me strength,” Chat casually noted, turning around and laying down flat with a pained grunt.

“I don’t think mere strength will help you with this…” Marinette opened a new pack of bandages, frowning at the sight of bloody towel and back. Silently thanking her mother for insisting her to always have a good first aid kit at home, Marinette started to wipe the blood away, pleased to see the bleeding had subsided.

“Magical strength,” he corrected himself.

“Like pixie dust?” she found herself cracking a joke to Chat Blanc. He coughed, sounding like he was trying to snicker at her.

“Like Chat Blanc dust,” he didn’t tell any more details this time either. Quietly Marinette decided to drop the matter and just get him patched up.

She did all she could for Chat Blanc, noticing his bandages would need to be changed to new in a few hours. When bandages were on, she helped him up to sofa and went to fetch him painkillers. As Marinette came back and knelt on the floor before him, she noticed just how pained and pale Chat’s face looked like. Quickly he composed himself together, but Marinette had already seen his weak state.

“You can stay as long as you need,” she repeated her offer without any details of what she had just seen, being also curious of just how long Chat Blanc’s transformation would stay on. It was clearly different from hers.

“…Thanks…” he avoided her gaze and swung down the painkillers, stretching then himself on the sofa with a pained sigh.

“I need to change your bandages later,” Marinette continued casually, sitting on the footstool near the sofa. She looked at Chat with a deep worried expression.

“I don’t like the sound of the special bullets, if that’s the case…” she murmured, earning Chat’s attention, “I’m also worried of the people freaking out because Ladybug has been missing. Is it really that bad?”

“Not yet, but it soon can be,” Chat scoffed, “I don’t blame them, though. There’s nothing between Paris and me than the now the mysteriously disappeared Ladybug – and these cursed bullets, whatever they are made from, but now, when I know I need to be careful with them, I can avoid them easily. Disarming a mere man is no trick to me,” his grin was small but sinister.

She wanted to ask what he had done to provoke polices so much, but she couldn’t. Instead she took a look at Chat’s suit, which was on still hanging on his waist. His upper body was bare, white ears and mask on their places like always.

It felt odd to see him like that. To see him as a man, not as a super villain. Underneath that suit was just a mortal man, flesh and blood, similar to Marinette. His body was no different from any other young man who had physically active life, which made him gain muscles and lean form. She understood the concept of a human inside miraculous outfit, had always understood it as she was the same, but it was completely different when one saw it before their eyes.

“Why such a long stare?”

Chat’s question brought Marinette quickly back to the present moment. His eyes had locked on her face, a small sneer on the corner of his lips.

“So—sorry, I was thinking…” she tottered, earning a short chuckle from Chat Blanc.

“Probably something very amusing. Me, perhaps? I couldn’t help but to feel that stare drilling into me,” he teased her, looking cocky. Marinette’s lips parted. “Such a lewd woman. We’re not that close.”

“…Actually, I did think of you. I… I keep forgetting that… well, you are flesh and blood… I don’t know if it’s alright to call you ‘just a mere man’, probably not, but it feels strange to see you like that,” Marinette answered truthfully, being still careful with her words not to anger him with the hints of belittling him with ‘just a human’ reference. “I’m especially surprised that your transformation staid on even though you took your ring off. What I know, it shouldn’t work like that.”

Chat’s sneer was replaced with tightly pressed lips, his eyebrows dropping down.

“You are right, it shouldn’t, but I’m not like a regular miraculous holder,” he told her with a low voice.

“O—oh? May I ask how come?” she was getting curious, still keeping her poker face on. Any info she could milk out from Chat Blanc could be the key info of how to get rid of him, how to obtain his ring and how to find Adrien without needing to offer Ladybug’s earrings to him.

“Curious about me, eh?” he turned his head away and closed his eyes, looking exhausted, without answering Marinette's question. Marinette couldn’t blame him for that though. She made her mind not to ask anything more to annoy him, nor to tire him. While he was Chat Blanc, he was still one of the Parisians, and Ladybug’s mission was to protect all Parisians – including Chat Blanc.

She crossed her legs, thinking everything Chat had told her about today’s events. She blamed also herself for Chat getting shot – if she hadn’t slept, she would have seen the news of Chat Blanc and got there in time as Ladybug. The internet was probably full of the news about Chat’s stunt already. As much as Marinette wanted to avoid meeting Chat Blanc as Ladybug until she knew what he was after with her, she also felt guilty for getting selfish and not being able to prevent Chat getting shot. They could have killed him, if they wanted to. Perhaps the shot had been a hasty one or aimed wrong?

The more Marinette thought about the shooting she also pondered if media had gotten a hint of those special bullets. If not, she could perhaps do the work herself.

“…About that how I’m not like a regular miraculous holder…” Chat’s voice suddenly broke the silence of the room, which had lasted for a long time, “My transformation doesn’t come off. It has stayed on since the first time.”

Marinette’s head perked up and her jaw almost hit the floor. She shifted closer to Chat Blanc, eyes size of two plates.

“Wha-? How that’s possible?” she sputtered, not believing her ears, “There’s a time limit in every miraculous, everyone in Paris knows it.”

Chat lifted his palm up and showed his ring to Marinette, holding his hand still. The jewelry was completely white with nothing on it.

“My ring has always been like this; just blank. There’s no time limit. No indication of when and how the transformation comes off. I can take off the suit completely, like a regular clothes, but not the mask or these ears,” Chat explained, surprising Marinette with his openness with the matter.

“That’s… something I’ve never heard…” Marinette had to give him that, “How long the transformation has been on?”

“Years.”

“It… must be tough,” she replied with a sad face, feeling genuinely upset for Chat. He just scoffed and pulled his hand away, hiding the ring underneath his head.

“I said I need no pity,” he reminded with an annoyed voice.

“My bad,” Marinette quickly covered herself, thinking it was perhaps the best the matter be for now. She had already gotten some good information out of Chat and pushing on too hard would most likely make him only run away. She pondered if a womanly, caring charm would ease him up and lose his tongue.

She stood up, informing Chat she was going to clean the living room and then eat, and he should try to sleep a bit before it was time to replace the bandages with news ones. As she stared at Chat’s dirty suit and the blood stains on her sofa Marinette thanked her ancestors for the washable covers on her sofa pillows. She would need to clean those up before one of her parents or Alya would pay her a sudden visit.

Marinette went on with the living room cleaning, scrubbing the blood stains out from her floor and ditching the towels into her washing machine, noticing her own clothes were bloody, too. She changed into clean clothes, coming back to living room. She pondered if her Lucky Charm would have cleaned this all for her after Chat Blanc wasn’t here anymore.

“How about your suit?” she suddenly spoke her thoughts out loud when she noticed Chat was still awake, “if the transformation doesn’t come of, it can’t rearrange the suits material, meaning the holes stay on and so does the blood. Should I wash it for you? I assume a magical suit should be able to handle a washing machine,” Marinette said, not actually being sure would that be the case.

Chat had turned rest on his side and took a look over his shoulder to Marinette, eyes drowsy.

“You know surprisingly lot about the miraculous suits and the transformation,” he noted with a murmur. A blush rose up to Marinette’s cheek.

“Ah, well, I’m a journalist so I do know some things, and it’s my job to connect dots together,” Marinette said quickly, hoping her blush wouldn’t reveal Chat Blanc the truth of why she was so knowledgeable about the matter.

Chat huffed, “And yet you don’t know where the young mister Agreste is, nor have any clues of him…”

Marinette was hurt that Chat was bringing his name up again, but she focused her attention to his suit.

“So, will I wash your outfit? It will dry out fast and you need some rest, with magical Chat Blanc dusts or not. It will be clean by the time you are healed enough to get back to your own home. I can sew the holes, too.”

Chat was quiet for a long time, and Marinette almost wanted to ask was he hesitant because he wasn’t wearing anything underneath the suit.

“…Fine, do as you please,” he finally exhaled, pushing himself up to stand. His form was still wobbly and his skin was very pale when Marinette went to help him to undress the suit and make sure he wouldn’t pass out on the floor from the blood loss.

“I got no spare clothes of your size, but I’ve got guest duvet and pillow. Oh, and one pair of too big wool socks my friend Alya made me. She’s bad at crafts,” Marinette kept talking as Chat’s human body revealed itself one by one from the white, skin tight suit. He slumped down to sit on the sofa and kicked his boots out with a groan.

“Whatever, just bring me something, it’s cold,” he whined, his face miffed but eyes so tired Marinette knew he was honestly feeling ill.  She collected the suit into her arms, careful with not to mess her clothes with his blood for the second time, and took then his shoes to her other hand.

“I’ll be back soon,” she said, eyeing Chat Blanc, who now looked even more like just a regular young man with silly white mask and kitty ears, like someone would have forced him to wear them for a bad masquerading.  He didn’t notice her stare. He had curled back on the sofa, his eyes closed.

“Do you need anything else than the duvet and the pillow?” Marinette cocked her eyebrow, biting her lower lip when Chat’s curled position made her think that she should get the ambulance’s number nearby.

“…. No,” he said shortly after a long silence, not moving or opening his eyes.

Marinette felt he wasn’t being completely honest with her, but kept her mouth shut, thinking a grown up man would ask if he truly needed something. Chat couldn’t have such a high pride he would injure himself more for it’s sake.

Marinette proceed taking the dirty suit into washing machine, turning the machine on hoping the suit wouldn’t get ruined, leaving his shoes in he hall and then rushing to the bedroom to collect her guest duvet and pillow from the upper shelf of her tall cupboards. She also found the too big socks from Alya, ironically with Ladybug’s color. She snorted at the thought of Chat Blanc wearing them.

Chat eyes shot open when Marinette stepped next to his head, offering the pillow. He took it, looking somewhat sour and pushed it underneath his head. Her sofa was a bit too short for him and Marinette decided to amuse herself with his curled position, maybe tease him a bit too, and throw the duvet over him to tug him into bed. She threw the duvet high in the air, her eyes shifting to Chat’s body to make sure the duvet would land properly on top of him. Her eyes caught something else than just the bandages which were already sept through with blood here and there.

Chat Blanc, the man under the white suit, wore underwear with a waist band decorated with big, narrow letters, forming a word;

Agreste.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your tremendous support, all kudos and especially all comments so far! They honestly mean a world to me. You are also free to contact me in Tumblr!  
> I think the next chapter will be from Chat's point of view. You deserve know his thoughts, too :3


	5. The Suit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Chat Blanc isn't happy at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This update took a way longer than I anticipated! I traveled back home from mom's place, had suddenly a shit load of work to do and my health was acting up, too. Next week I get a friend from Osaka visiting me and I'll travel back to mom's place for summer in the early June, so I won't be writing for a while (2-3 weeks I assume). 
> 
> Thank you kindly for your feedback! Especially comments are appreciated so I don't feel like I would be yelling this fic into a black void with no response..!

“You—you are wearing Agreste’s underwear?”

Her voice rose up into a high pitched tone, and Chat’s face twisted. He wrinkled his nose and tugged the duvet closer to his face when it landed on top of him.

“They make good underwear,” he scoffed with a frown, squinting his eyes at Marinette. The woman looked boggled for a moment, but let then out a sigh, her hands dropping with a swing to her sides.

“Can’t blame you for a bad taste…” Marinette muttered and sat down on the footstool, opening the TV, “I’m going to watch my fave series’ airing. I keep the volume down so you can sleep. I recommend some resting.”

Chat inspected Marinette from his soft and fluffy hide out, his sides still aching despite the pain killer. As much as he had unnatural powers in him, they still didn’t take away his pain. He turned to face the TV, watching how commercials ran on the screen with a low volume, his ears picking up how Marinette shifted on her seat. His stomach had an odd feeling, and Chat really couldn’t put his finger on it. He remained silent for a good while.

“…Tell me more, about that man of yours,” Chat finally asked after mulling over with his odd stomach curling feeling. He could see from the corner of his eye how Marinette almost fell from her stool.

“Wh—what? Why?” she tottered looking at Chat with wide eyes, but he didn’t return her gaze.

“I don’t believe in love at first sight. I don’t much believe in love in any way. I can’t wrap my mind around what you told me about you falling high over heels for him. So, humor me.”

“Well, it sorta just happened…” Marinette replied with a cocked eyebrow.

“Bullshit. You don’t fall in love like that and you swore it wasn’t your delusional mental imbalances talking for you, but your truth. What did he even do to gain such loyalty from you?”  Chat let out a short snort.

Marinette was quiet and Chat wondered if he had been too straight forward with his question. He took a quick look to Marinette’s face.

“I’ll tell you something about myself in return. A fair deal, yes?” he suggested.

Marinette’s brows knit together and she leaned to her arms.

“Patching you up and letting you stay here should be enough for getting some details out of you regarding you and your life,” she chewed her lip, her gaze bold and somehow nonchalant at the same time. It was Chat’s turn to frown.

“I’m not an idiot, Marinette. You are a journalist,” he remarked, sounding a bit too bitter, more than he had intended. She straightened her back and lifted her palms up.

“I swear there will be no leaks to media from me. It would also get me into a bad position, as I would be questioned endlessly how I have managed to get such info of Chat Blanc and how I can be sure it’s true. Either it would reveal our deal – which I don’t want – or ruin my reputation as a rumor-gossip-click bait journalist no one wants to buy writings from,” she placed her hands down to her lap, “If I want an interview from you, I’ll ask for it.”

Chat weighted carefully Marinette’s words but like always her eyes were sincere and her lips spoke the truth. Chat Blanc believed in Marinette. She had very confident aura and the only thing which seemed to broke it was the loss of Adrien Agreste – something Chat Blanc couldn’t really understand. He shifted on the sofa.

“Good. So, back to my question: What’s was so amazing in Adrien Agreste?” his voice got icy again when he spoke out loud that name. “Please, don’t leave any detail out. I’m dying to hear everything,” he sneered.

Marinette turned her head towards TV, but her eyes were blank, not focusing on anything.

“… I wasn’t lying when I said he sparked something in me the moment I saw him. It wasn’t about his looks or his name or fame. It was… like… seeing an old friend you hadn’t seen in ages and whom you had missed without realizing it yourself. You know, kind of like… the same way when you appreciate something after you lose it, but in an opposite way? It’s very hard to put in words and it doesn’t make much sense. Heck, even I have hard time to believe in my own words,” Marinette chuckled sadly, letting her head drop drown, “But that’s what I felt. I brushed it off as nothing, thinking it was probably just some Adrien fangirling.”

Chat snorted out loud, sounding amused.

“Sounds like some soul mate bullshit,” he scoffed.

“Perhaps. I don’t know. I guess that’s kind of accurate description of my feelings, but I don’t know how he felt about me…” she let out a sad smile. Chat’s head pushed up quickly.

“Wait, wait, wait. Are you seriously telling me you are willing to work as my underling, under my absolute command, just so that you could find out what happened to a man who probably didn’t even have any feelings for you?” his voice was a thin hiss, which rose angrily from his throat. “Are you an idiot?!”

“It shouldn’t concern you,” Marinette huffed, crossing her arms. “Or what? Are you actually worried of me?” she smirked from the corner of her pink lips.

Chat’s eyes widened, but then he growled.

“I won’t work with idiots,” his eyes narrowed quickly, “Oh but please, tell me more. You have left out the good parts, am I right?”

She stared at Chat for a second, until she untangled her arms, sighing.

“Why I’m even doing this…” Marinette muttered quietly, but Chat didn’t interrupt her nor let any nasty comment to slip out from his mouth. Instead he kept his eyes on her, waiting.

The same sadness, that had been present in Marinette’s eyes, returned to her face.

“Adrien was… different. It wasn’t because he was famous. I feared he would be a little spoiled brat, but Adrien was the kindest person in the whole school. He smiled to everyone, tried to befriend with people, struggled a lot to fit in and find his place. I felt sorry for him but I also understood him in some way, or that’s how I felt. Adrien was polite, friendly, he had such a huge golden heart. I’m sure he would have given his shirt off from him if someone else needed it.”

“…Sound very different from what you said last time. About him freaking some havoc,” Chat spoke when Marinette sit in silence, looking into distance. Her eyes focused quickly on Chat.

“That’s true, too. Famous people cause problems just by existing among regular folk. People didn’t leave Adrien alone at school. Everyone wanted to have a piece of him,” she smiled at Chat, looking forlorn.

Chat turned on his back and pushed an arm under his head.

“You, too?” he asked.

Marinette shook her head, “No, not like that. I mean, I couldn’t really even talk to him. I was very clumsy and extremely awkward teen. I froze each time I tried to talk with him. But we did talk, a few times.”

“Oh? About what?” he grinned impishly. Marinette blushed but kept her composure.

“We both loved fashion designing, so we talked about colors and how important they are. Oh god, I felt like I was going to pass out when Adrien sat next to me in the school’s library when I was reading a color theory book...! My heart still starts to bound fast when I think about that moment…!” she lifted her hands up to her chest, eyes dreamy and sparkly. “He was so kind and friendly. Not cocky or spoiled. I planned to give him home made macarons at the end of the school year, but then he got transferred away. It was sad… I thought that maybe I could take the macarons to his home but in the end I didn’t. I didn’t want to come off as rude or clingy or anything similar. When I think about it now I feel silly, but that’s what my teenager self was worrying about back then. If I got to take the macarons to him now I’d rather worry for the security not letting me in!” she laughed a bit, but her inner hurt was clear on her face.

Chat didn’t miss it.

“You know…” he began, licking his lips and avoiding Marinette’s look, “I know how that feels. To lose someone suddenly.”

Her head perked up immediately.

“Really?”

“... My mother,” Chat simply said.

“I’m sorry… May I ask what happened?” Marinette asked cautiously.

Chat just shrugged his shoulders slightly, his hand still behind his head.

“She just vanished. Same way as that Adrien guy,” Chat didn’t go too much into details. He didn’t feel like it.

Marinette’s eyes had a sympathetic look, as she leaned closer to Chat.

“So, were are in the same boat, then. Does your mother’s disappearance have something to do with your villain profession? Is that why you want to find Ladybug? Do you think she’d help if you asked?” Marinette let her journalist’s side come up and Chat hissed at her right away, pissed.

“Curious of my tragic backstory, eh? Too bad. It’s not available, nor you can have my reason for meeting Ladybug,” he sneered, his face twisting then into a painful expression, “fucking shit how much a bullet wound can hurt...!”

“I’ll get you more painkillers!” Marinette sprung up, before Chat could even say no, and returned quickly from kitchen with pills and water. Chat couldn’t say no this time either, but accepted her gesture and took the medication. After all, he was indeed hurting.

After eating his pills, Chat groaned, turning slowly to his side and closing his eyes.

“I’m going to sleep. All this mushy talk is making me weak,” he murmured, pulling his covers higher up to his ear. Somehow it felt the best. Just to stop talking.

Marinette had nothing against his decision, so she just wished him good night sleep, reminding that he could take more pain killers if needed and that she would need to wake him up for the bandage change later. Upon hearing this Chat wrinkled his strong nose with a displeased scoff and said he would stay awake and go to sleep after the bandage change.

Marinette finished her fave series’ new episode even though she had missed half of it, and told Chat she needed to go to sleep and thus it was time to check out his wounds. Chat was internally more than happy to hear that, as he felt himself exhausted and only wanted to sleep the pain away, but he never let Marinette see his feelings. He sat up and allowed her to do her magic, her tiny hands and fingers peeling the bandages off and gluing new ones on, her lips constantly moving as she pondered how she probably should go to buy more of medical supplies and also how Chat’s bleeding had reduced a lot, which she seemed pleased about. When she was done she patted Chat on his bare shoulder and smiled down at him, wishing him good night and asking him to yell her if he needed something during the night. He mumbled out a short thanks and buried then himself under his duvet.

Chat listened how Marinette went to brush her teeth and then made her way to her bedroom, turning off TV and lights. The bedroom’s door closed softly and Chat was left alone in the room, city’s sounds faintly audible from outside. His side still hurt and Chat had managed to develop a good headache. Snuggling deeper into the sofa’s softness Chat was honestly thankful for this chance to rest.

God, he didn’t remember the last time he had really rested. Really, honestly, laid down and sighed out a deep, exhausted breath and then fallen asleep with a comfortable feeling in his chest. Marinette’s home felt comfortable and peaceful, somehow warm and inviting. The woman herself felt also warm and Chat found himself thinking what kind of a family she had got? How were her parents? How about her childhood home? How different it was from his? Most importantly one thought kept repeating itself in Chat’s head, over and over and over again:

How come he didn’t remember Marinette?

He was sure he had recorded every single face from his public junior high months into his mind, back when he still had roamed this Earthly life as the man Marinette was mourning after; Adrien Agreste. How whatever Marinette was telling him about Adrien, she was actually telling Chat about himself, and how everything she said ring no bell in Chat’s head.

Had he indeed forgotten everything? If so, why? He didn’t even remember the library scene or talking about colors in fashion design with anyone at school. He recalled nothing of Marinette’s words. He couldn’t even find her face from the corners of his memories. Yet, it was clear Marinette remembered him, remembered like he had been there just yesterday. Her strong devotion and strangely weird love for Adrien, love which seemed like it was spilling over from her personal container, rising up from all the way from the bottom of her heart, made Chat feel himself odd. He really didn’t know what he should do with that information.

At first he had offered the deal with his ring and Ladybug’s earrings to get Marinette to work with him, but if Chat had known she was looking for him, he would have never offered that deal to her. He would have figured some other way to persuade her, maybe with some good old black mailing.

What would he do, when the time for his promise for Marinette would arrive? Would he allow her to find out the truth? Or should he be a true villain and break his promise? Even after Marinette tending his wounds and clearly looking after him, for whatever reason she might have had for her kind actions towards Chat Blanc. Even when she truly was mourning for her loss, all because of him, and when he was using that loss for his own advance.

Chat didn’t like how she suddenly made him have moral dilemmas. He brushed the questions of future away from his mind. While waiting for the sleep to claim him, Chat drifted back to his school time memories, trying to find Marinette there. He remembered faces but had forgotten most of the other students’ names. He was hesitant when he thought about going to hunt down more information of Marinette, as for some reason it didn’t feel like a good plan. In the end, she was most likely just one of the girls who had been drooling after him, no matter what she told. It had to be like that. All girls had been like that and even the shy ones had been ogling Adrien when they thought he didn’t see or feel their gazes traveling on him.

He had always been just an object. Nothing more than a pretty, useful trophy.

Marinette swore that wasn’t the case, that she genuinely loved Adrien as a person, not as an object, but Chat didn’t give it any second thought. There was no way anyone could love Adrien Agreste that way. Chat Blanc didn’t believe anyone could ever love anyone else like that, especially if they were famous – actually he was sure no one truly loved anyone unconditionally. That was sincerely and completely stupidly, with no real sense or reason, as people always wanted something from others, especially in romance. Soul mates with unconditional love were bullshit stories found from fairy tales, some of them actually being Miraculous history, now long forgotten and told only as legends.

Chat Blanc couldn’t have cared less of such things. He had only one interest in his mind and it was to find Ladybug and seize her. Everything else was meaningless. Even Marinette and his old life as Adrien Agreste. He would never return back to that man. Back to that name.

He was Chat Blanc. Now and for the eternity of his life time.

 

\--.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The night was restless and hot for Chat. In his nightmares he was back at the school, where the colorful corridors and hallways turned completely black when he walked there, the joy and brightness rotting away all around him by every single step he took.

In the distance, there was something shiny. Something which glimmered and fluttered, like a small fire about to die out.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Chat woke up with damp eyelashes around the noon. The house was quiet and it took a while to remember where he was. Struggling to sit up Chat could feel how the wounds still ached but not as badly as yesterday. He scanned the house and perked his ears, hearing nothing. On the living room table laid a pink ruled paper piece, which Chat took and unfolded it.

_“I had to go to take care of some work. You are free to stay, if you are feeling ill, just don’t anything stupid while I’m gone or otherwise you either upset my father or me. There’s food in the fridge and pain killers on the kitchen counter. Your suit is still drying.”_

Chat wanted to crumble the note in his palm, that stupid sign of a concern of his well-being, but for some reason he couldn’t. He read it once again and while some other time the forbidding of him doing anything stupid would have been an actual invitation for Chat Blanc to break loose, today wasn’t that day. He just didn’t feel like being nasty and evil right now, which he blamed his injury and hunger for.

He didn’t want to think him being suddenly so nice was because Marinette had helped him, because of her being kind towards him or because of what she had told him yesterday.

Dragging himself to the fridge, still wrapped into the duvet, Chat found a ready-made breakfast for him, with a small note “villains need to eat, too” on a post-it note on top of it.

“She’s just making everything worse…”, he groaned but took the food, not being able to fight against his grumbling stomach.

He sat and ate in a silence on the sofa, watching TV but not really seeing anything from it. Marinette’s words from yesterday, accompanied with his nightmare, kept bugging Chat. He shoveled his breakfast into his mouth, feeling dryness in his throat.

How long had it been? That someone made him food, not because they had to, but because they wanted to? Because they thought of him and went “gotta feed that guy”?

Mother’s toasts had always been the best ones from his opinion, especially with orange jam and honey, and with the home-made ice tea. Mom had always had something nice for him when she was cooking or baking, refusing from leaving the kitchen no matter how much their own chef demanded it.

Chat swallowed the last spoonful of yogurt with a salty hiccup.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Marinette arrived home around five, happy she hadn’t seen Chat Blanc during her Ladybug episode. She had already came up with plenty of excuses why she was gone so many hours, just in case Chat was still at her place. And indeed, he was, not snoring anymore like when Marinette had left, but furiously pacing back and forth in her living room, his suit’s upper part tied around his waist. He scratched his hair furiously, clearly bothered by something, and when he realized Marinette had arrived back home, he practically bounced under her nose.

“What did you do?!” he demanded, taking Marinette by surprise. She hoped neighbors hadn’t heard him yelling.

“Wha- what do you mean?” she asked with hesitation, trying to read his face. His eyes were angry and cheeks red.

“You…..you…. you treacherous woman, you ruined my suit!” he yelled, throwing then his head backwards and groaned with a sorrowful tone, taking hold of his face.

“Is there something wrong with it?” Marinette found his acting a bit too dramatic for a suit.

“Fuck, look yourself! What is this?! What the hell did you do?!” he was frantically untying the suit from his waist, pushing the sleeves of it towards Marinette, so close they almost touched her face. She had to back up a bit and took a hold of the fabric so that Chat wouldn’t push it all the way down to her throat.

Marinette inspected the sleeves in her palms, noticing how both gloves’ fingertips had turned to black, slowly fading to grey until the suit continued white, like it should have been in the first place.

“What?” Marinette couldn’t believe her eyes. Chat frowned and took a hold of his tail.

“It’s not just that but my tail, too!” he almost wailed, waving the tip of the leather tail in front of Marinette. Its end had dyed black, too.

“I don’t understand,” Marinette breathed out, boggled, “it was all white when I took it from the washing machine…”

“Liar, it was like this when I put it on!” Chat Blanc didn’t believe her. He yanked the suit from Marinette’s hold and tied it again to his waist, turning then around and wailing as he went, “My reputation as Chat Blanc is in the line here! You better do something about this!”

 “I can try some color dye, but I’m not sure will it help… After all, your suit isn’t any regular material. I do lots of thing from fabrics myself, clothes and stuff, but I have never seen similar material as your suit is. Thus I don’t know will the dye help,” Marinette spoke truthfully, following Chat into living room, “Not to mention I would need to cover black with white.”

Chat sat on the sofa holding his head and looking devastated. For the Paris’s most feared villain, he was rather conscious of his image and looks, Marinette pointed out to herself as she watched his beaten form, but didn’t let that slip to Chat’s ears.

“How are your wounds?” she asked, but Chat hissed.

“They will heal but my suit is ruined,” he sobbed. Marinette rolled her eyes at him and went before him, kneeling down. She found his tail and took it into her hands, inspecting the blackened tip.

“Spray could perhaps help, but it won’t stay on for long, plus it cracks easily. Nail polish has the same problem,” she murmured, curious of how the suit had gotten these black spots. She was absolutely sure they weren’t there when she hung the suit to dry. When Chat didn’t reply, she took a look at his face, which was dull. His eyes looked odd, somehow very sad and distant.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure we figure something out,” Marinette offered when she saw how hardly he took the whole suit business.

Chat’s eyes came back to this reality, focusing and narrowing in an instant.

“WE?” he hissed with a spat, which turned into growling. “I won’t be asking your help with this, you shit.”

“Fine, I won’t help then,” Marinette sighed and stood up, wanting to tell him that he was behaving like a five-year-old. Then she remembered Chat’s story of his mother disappearing and Marinette couldn’t help to ponder how old he had been when that happened. Had he indeed been five-year-old? Or older? Was she witnessing now something his mother had seen when she had been around?

Suddenly she wanted to give him a supportive hug, but she didn’t. It felt wrong. This was Chat Blanc. It was best to keep some distance to him. Instead of a hug she went to kitchen and opened the fridge, seeing that he had eaten his breakfast. She took an orange juice can from the fridge.

“…Sorry, I had a bad night…” Chat murmured with a thin voice. Marinette was surprised he apologized.

“Oh? Care to talk about it?” she asked watching Chat’s back, but Chat shook his head. His shoulders hunched.

“Private matter,” he simply said. Marinette understood the hint.

“Do you want some juice?” she shook the can in her hold but Chat didn’t move.

“No.”

“Alright, tell me if you change your mind,” Marinette poured a glass for herself, turning then back to Chat, “I have to change the bandages again. You are free to go or stay here, however you like, after that.”

“Fine.”

Marinette finished her drink and fetched the bandage equipment, walking to Chat’s side. He was still hunching down, eyes sad and dull. He looked like he wanted to cry.

“…I’m sorry if I ruined your suit…” she apologized, even when she knew it wasn’t true.

“It’s not that,” he muttered, almost like talking to himself. Marinette proceed to treat his wounds, which were almost completely closed by now.

“…Do… Do you miss your mother?” Marinette asked licking her lips, not knowing would it be a good thing to ask. “I mean, if you do, I know how you feel. I miss Adrien, too, though I know it’s not the same thing.”

He didn’t reply. It was quiet for a long time.

“May I ask how she was?” Marinette tried again, gluing the first bandage on and changing then the side, going for his back wound. She sat next to Chat Blanc.

“…She was the most amazing and kindest person ever,” he whispered. “That’s all I’m going to say about this, so stop being nosy or I’ll get very pissed off,” he added quickly with a gritting of his fangs.

Marinette was even more sure now he was after Ladybug’s earrings for the very same reason he had lured her in with; to find someone important who was missing. She should have been happy about this information, this revelation which would most likely give her some idea of how to deal with Chat Blanc and Ladybug dilemma, but Marinette didn’t feel that happiness anywhere in her body. Only thing she felt was pity and understanding when she took a look at Chat’s miserable face from over his shoulder. She could see only little, just a bit of the side of his head, but it was enough to tell the man was hurting emotionally.  She pondered if her talks about Adrien had sparkled this sadness also in Chat. If he, too, was pushing bad memories deep into the furthest rooms of human mind, hoping they wouldn’t rise up from there. Marinette didn’t dare to ask about it.

“There,” she said after the final bandage was on, “I give you some bandages to go, so you can change them yourself or ask someone to do it for you.”

“…Thanks, but I won’t need them” he said, rising up so quickly Marinette almost fell from the sofa. She watched how he dressed himself hastily, his black fingers now very clearly visible against the otherwise white suit.

“A—are you sure? There’s still an infection risk if you don’t change them to new ones or if you take them off completely too soon,” Marinette cocked her eyebrow. Chat took a look over his shoulder and snorted through his nostrils, amused.

“So cute, to worry about me. Melts my heart,” his last three words were venomous, his trademark icy stare returning. He didn’t look at Marinette but stomped to balcony’s door. “I won’t need that, save that to someone else.”

“Glad to help you,” she sing-sang back at him crossing her arms, frowning her small nose. Such a thankless thug!

Chat Blanc disappeared into the colorful setting sun’s light without any parting words and Marinette’s anger boiled when she thought how he should have thanked her properly. Then she remembered Chat’s sad eyes and his words about his mother, and getting thanks wasn’t so important anymore. Actually Marinette was just glad he hadn’t started to break her apartment into pieces or done anything nasty while she was gone. The house was looking same as always, except some bandage wrappings and empty water glass on the living room table and Chat’s duvet and pillow on the sofa.

She remembered she had forgotten to give the fool socks for him to wear.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

A two days later, Chat Blanc was yet again at Marinette’s house, scaring her by standing in the living room when she stepped outside from the shower, a kitten towel wrapped around her body.

“What the hell are you doing here?! Wait, did you break my balcony’s lock?!” Marinette screamed holding her towel tighter, her hair still wet.

Chat wrinkled his nose, his lips pressing into a thin line.

“The door is fine. I just used some special kitty ring touch to it. I need new bandages,” he blurted out and Marinette groaned, frustrated.

“Of course, what’s what I told you! That’s why I asked you to take those bandages with you! Super villain or not, you still need to take care of your injuries properly!” she wanted to wave her arms around her but the need of holding her towel up high was stronger.

“… It sounds almost like you would mind if my injuries got worse,” Chat sneered. Marinette stopped him immediately.

“I’ve been raised to help those who need help and even if it’s you, I’ll help, if it’s something which can be bad or dangerous to you if you’re not being helped with it,” she explained, keeping her mouth shut about her being Ladybug and her duty to look after every single Parisian, including evil tom cats. “Take your suit off and let me see how the wounds are doing.”

As Marinette took the bandage equipment and got closer to Chat, she noticed his blackness from fingers had now spread up to his palms and wrists. She also spotted some black dots on the top of his ears and when she looked down at his feet, she noticed that her suspects were right; now also his shoes had black tips. The color faded to gray until it was white again.

Chat Blanc did as Marinette asked, sitting down to the familiar spot on her sofa and taking off his suit’s upper part. It fell on his waist freely.

“Sit up straight, it’s easier for me,” Marinette murmured, her eyes following the black spots and and she pondered if she had indeed ruined his suit. Or, maybe it was a disease of some sort? Could miraculouses get sick or cause abnormalities in their holders or in themselves? She needed to inspect this more as soon as Chat Blanc was gone from her living room.

Actually, Marinette had completely forgotten to sniff out how Chat Blanc even had become a miraculous holder. She made a mental note about trying to get Chat to reveal more details of himself, something which could lead her to the right way.

 I’m sick of it,” he growled when Marinette started to peel of the bandage from his side. Chat’s face wasn’t so miserable today – actually, he just looked a bit tired, but nothing like a few days ago, when he had been in a verge of either tears or meltdown. His eyes were fixated on the floor.

“Of what?” she asked.

“Of Ladybug. She’s gone, disappeared. I haven’t seen her in ages. I need her,” he continued his growling and if Marinette used her imagination a bit, she could see how the back of his hair on stood up.

“I’m a bit worried of her,” she lied, concentrating on keeping her poker face on, “on the other hand Paris has been rather quiet lately, so I guess it’s a good thing she doesn’t need to be around that much. But, I’m worried about the police and those bullets.”

“…Me, too,” he replied with tight lips, giving Marinette an impression that Chat knew more of the matter than he let her believe. She decided not to pry this time.

“…Of her or of the bullets?” Marinette decided to lighten up the mood in the room and nudged him with her foot playfully.

Chat’s eyes widened and the stared at the spot where Marinette’s foot had touched him. Then his head swung to Marinette’s side, eyes fiery.

“Very clever,” he hissed and Marinette shot her hands up.

“My bad, that was a bad pun,” she defended herself, pushing then Chat’s head from his chin away from her face, urging him to sit up face forward. “You looked so miserable last time I thought a joke would lighten you up.”

“I’m not in a mood for childish idiocy,” he murmured with an annoyed voice. Marinette dropped the matter and patched his side up, as she wasn’t interested in dealing with tantrums of Chat Blanc.

“Now, your back wound. This side looked good and it should be OK soon, as you do seem to heal fast. You still need a bandage change for once I guess. I’ll give you them with you this time, ask someone to change them, especially this one,” Marinette explained as she went to his side and sat down, getting ready to take the back bandage off. As she was opening a new one, Chat sighed with a growl.

“I have no one.”


	6. The Sickness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Chat Blanc isn't feeling well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news, good news! The workload at work got easier, so I had time to write a new chapter! It's 2:30 am and I should have been in bed 3 hours ago already, so unfortunately there will be typos in this. I will do corrections (and perhaps small alterations) tomorrow, after I wake up.

Chat didn’t like how she looked at him. How they showered him with a pitying gaze. He knew he looked horrible. Tired and anxious, as every day without Ladybug threw him only further away from his aim.

Marinette cleared her throat softly.

“I see that the black has spread…” she pointed out, her eyes traveling up and down his now dual colored suit. The blackness had reached his elbows, his tail was almost completely black and on legs the blackness was already high above his knees.

“No shit,” Chat growled, his ears – black from the tips – twitching. He turned his head away from Marinette, miffed pout on his lips.

“I need to find Ladybug before this gets out of hand,” he added, keeping his head turned away.

Marinette tapped her chin with her index finger while sitting at the kitchen table. She wasn’t clearly surprised that Chat Blanc was yet again in her apartment and talking about Ladybug.

“Do you think she could help?” she cocked her eyebrow.

Chat looked at Marinette, face stern.

“I know it. I barely dare to show myself in public anymore with…with… this!” he gestured at himself, his hands starting to flail around in the air. “Chat Blanc. In my ass, bah!”

“Shall I call you Chat Pois then?” she asked humorously. Chat wasn’t impressed with her puns.

“No.”

“Anyway, seriously speaking, I… I don’t understand how Ladybug would be any help? Do you think she knows what this is? Or do you already know what it is?” she continued after short grumbling from Chat, who was seemingly uncomfortable in his new suit.

Chat hesitated for a while. He knew he couldn’t let Marinette know what his reason for catching a certain bug was – she could have easily gone and tell her that, as she magically always seemed to be at the same place with her – but for some reason he didn’t feel like lying either. He blamed her for that. Blamed Marinette for poisoning his mind and thoughts, where he was restlessly trying to find Marinette back from the time when they both had been fifteen. Almost two weeks of work and nothing yet. Just empty space between his ears.

“… I don’t know what this is,” he finally gave in, but kept his mind about not telling anything specific of Ladybug, “But I know for certain she can be very helpful to me.”

“Shouldn't you just like… ask? Like grown-ups do?”

He sneered, amused. For some reason Marinette was becoming more and more bolder with him. Perhaps it was because she had seen him weak. Perhaps she was accepting the fact she was his partner in crime now and tried to establish their criminal relationship to a more solid foundation. Chat Blanc wasn’t sure which one it was.

“Me? Asking Ladybug? In your dreams, Marinette. I will catch her, that’s what the villains do, and after I have managed to capture her into my claws, I will cut down her wings so that she never runs away again,” he scoffed, his eyes starting to flame when he pictured the moment of him seizing Ladybug, and doing that for good. He had planned it for so long already. He would do anything to catch her.

Anything.

“…You… Please tell me you aren’t seriously planning to kill her?” Marinette’s eyes had narrowed and instead of looking worried – something Chat had anticipated – she looked more like pissed off.

“Kill?” Chat grinned, spreading his arms to his sides, “who said about killing? I’m just needing something from her, that’s all.”

“Oh? What?”

“Good one, but I’m not falling to that,” he shook his finger at Marinette, eyebrows knitting together. “However, I do need something from you.”

“I’ve told you, Chat, I don’t know where Ladybug is…! I haven’t seen her much either. I heard she has made only a few public stunts and if you ask me to provoke her out, I won’t. I don’t want to get shot,” Marinette whined, leaning her face against her palm.

Chat’s eyes shot open. He stared in front of him for a second, then his sneer returned, widening and widening slowly, all the way from ear to another.

“We need a trap,” he basically whirred, his grin wide as Cheshire Cat’s.

“A.. A trap?!” Marinette gasped, her head bolting up, “Chat, I don’t think that’s a good idea. What if we just waited?”

“Now, now, Marinette, where’s your spirit? Don’t shoot the idea down immediately like that,” he huffed, “you should be at least a bit interested in our quest for Ladybug, or have you already gotten over him?”

Marinette’s eyes widened with a shock, narrowing then quickly into a frowning squint, her lips pressing together.

Good. He had hit the very sore spot.

“…Fine. What’s your plan?” she mumbled, the same pissed off gaze returning into her blue eyes.

Chat turned around on his heels, chuckling.

“I will figure that out. Follow me.”

“…Now?” she dazed but Chat just gestured her to get up and follow him outside to the balcony. As soon as they got there, he faced Marinette, his purple eyes all serious.

“I need to show you something. Hop on my back. We’ll get faster there if I carry you,” he said, kneeling down, his back towards Marinette. She stood there, unsure.

“People will see me with you, it’s a bright day. Won’t that scare Ladybug away?” she tottered. Chat took a look over his shoulder, watching her face, which was now worried for the first time for today.

“I’m not concerned of that right now. Come on, don’t make me wait,” Chat assured, and after a small moment of hesitation, Chat could feel Marinette’s arms entwining his neck. He scooped her up to a picky back ride and dashed away from the balcony, as fast as he could run. He felt a fire burning in his chest as he ran forward, Marinette letting out a few screams every now and then when he dropped down to lower roofs with a deep dive or passed through long gaps between houses with a long leap. After a while of running Chat reached his destination; the Eiffel tower.

It was no big deal for Chat Blanc to run up to the tower, stopping on a beam around middle way of the tower’s height. People visiting the Eiffel spotted them immediately, and a small crowd of gasping faces and interested tourists started to swarm the stairs, the commotion summoning more people there.

“Too bad, we have been spotted,” Chat grinned as he let Marinette slide down. He turned to peek over the edge of the beam. “Do you see any cops?” he whispered.

“…There’s one car,” Marinette replied pointing out to her left. People at the street level hadn’t seen them yet, but minded their own businesses.

“Are you afraid of heights?” Chat asked another question as he straightened his back, his voice low. He watched Marinette blinking at him.

“No,” she shook her head slightly.

Chat’s grin spread in a second on his face, his eye’s flaring up.

“Good,” he hissed and with a one movement of his hand pushed Marinette over the edge of the beam, her eyes widening in a shock when she realized what was going on.

She let out a horrible scream as she fell, a scream which echoed all around the Eiffel, catching everyone’s attention. Everyone’s eyes turned to a young woman, who was in the air, falling down like in a slow motion, falling, falling, falling.

Before she fell too far, Chat’s hand seized her arm from her wrist, yanking Marinette up, stopping her fall-down. She hung in the air, in an arm’s reach from the beam, in a Chat Blanc’s hold. He was holding her in the air with one hand only, eyes completely ruthless and frozen.

“Citizens of Paris!” he yelled from the top of his lungs, not paying any attention of the horrified crowd behind him watching the scene in disbelief, “This young woman here could use some help or otherwise she ends up only as a pretty stain on the Eiffel’s root! I ask you all; where is Ladybug?!”

“Cha—Chat Blanc..!!” Marinette protested, completely freaked out by everything. She kicked the air in an attempt to get back to the beam, her toes just reaching it if she tried really hard, but Chat shot her a death glare.

“If you value your life, stop kicking. Otherwise I _will_ drop you down. My strengths are oh just so limited. I wouldn’t try my luck with them with all the squirming if I was you,” he hissed at her between his teeth, turning then his attention down the ground. A mass of people had now gathered to look up at them and the police car had started to flash its lights, a police officer talking to a phone.

“I demand Ladybug!!” he roared, pointing his finger at the police officer, though he probably didn’t see it, “Don’t try anything funny! No police, no guns, no army! I demand Ladybug! Only she can save this woman!”

“Chat, you are crazy!” Marinette screamed out loud, her face pale, “No one has seen her in a long time! There’s no guarantee she will come!”

“If she’s clever she will come here,” Chat spat back, “Stop talking to me, you are distracting me.”

“Chat--!” Marinette opened her mouth but her voice got cut off, being replaced with another frightened scream as Chat shook her from the arm, her body swaying back and worth over nothing.

“I give her ten minutes! Ten minutes I say! You better come here soon, Ladybug! I’m tired of waiting and my arm is getting tired, too!” Chat yelled from the top of his lungs, scanning the area in a hope to see familiar red outfit springing out from any direction now.

He knew Ladybug. That idiot had a lot of nerve to think he would let her hide like this forever. If he couldn’t provoke her out by himself without getting shot, he would use a bait for that. A bait a police wouldn't dare to shoot. She could run away from Chat Blanc, but Chat was sure she wouldn’t miss this. Not by any chance. She would rush to save an innocent civilian, especially someone as young and pretty as Marinette.

He stopped at the moment he realized a word ‘pretty’ had flashed in his mind.

Growling Chat turned his head back to the people at the Eiffel’s root, spotting a TV reporter there now.

“And no fucking helicopters, do you hear me?! If I spot even a sound of a chopper, I’ll drop this woman down in a heartbeat!” Chat screamed at them.

He took a look at Marinette, the wind blowing her dark hair back and forth. She looked dead shocked.

“Chat, you have to stop this! This isn’t the right way!” she plead at him, holding on his wrist with her free arm, clearly afraid. Chat didn’t listen, just gritted his teeth with bared fangs.

“No, this is exactly the way it needs,” he hissed, readying them himself into another loud yell, “LADYBUG! Your time is running short! Do you honestly want to give this woman a death sentence?!”

“CHAT!” Marinette cried, angry and completely furious now. “STOP! YOU DON’T EVEN NOW WHERE SHE IS! WHAT IF SHE DOESN’T COME?!”

“She will, Marinette! I know it,” Chat replied, low enough for no one else to hear his words.

“You can’t kill me like this! We had a deal!” she plead again, her anger still boiling in her voice.

Chat was about to argue back, when he noticed tears on Marinette’s cheeks. Despite her anger flaming in her eyes, her cheeks were moist and her lips trembled. She was afraid. 

No… this was… This--

He barely managed to avoid the bullet which flashed next to his ear, hitting a beam above him and bouncing back to the ground pass Marinette. She screamed, closing her eyes, and Chat’s fury rose from his chest.

“THE FUCK YOU ARE DOING?!” he yelled down at the crowd, spotting a police with a rifle, “YOU SHOOT ME AND SHE’S DEAD WHEN MY GRIP SLIPS! YOU SHOOT HER AND I KILL YOU WITH MY BARE HANDS! PUT THE GUN AWAY BEFORE I COME DOWN THERE AND STRANGLE YOU WITH IT!”

Funny. He was meant to say ‘before I drop this woman to her demise’.

He scanned the horizon again. Nothing. No sign of Ladybug. Maybe Marinette was right. Maybe she wasn’t coming. Perhaps she hadn’t heard of his stunt yet? Chat Blanc decided to wait just a little bit longer. This was his million dollars’ chance to lure Ladybug in. She wouldn’t be able resist the teary eyes of an innocent young woman at his disposal. Not those blue eyes which looked at him, praying, sad. Devastated and lost. Like when she had sat in the furthest corner of the library room with a big color theory book, looking like she had just cried her dear life out as he had passed by and----

Chat’s knees jerked down, his balance going off for a second. She screamed at his hold, screaming his name in a frightful, shattered voice. Hastily he composed himself, his eyes wide and lips parted. Marinette was still screaming, holding on to his wrist with a powerful grip.

Another bullet whistled next to them, breaking her screaming with its sound.

No. This was a mistake. An utter, major, shitty mistake.

He shouldn’t have come here.

“We’re leaving,” he gulped down to Marinette, pulling her quickly back to the beam next to him and under his arm, “They know that she’d not coming. That’s why they shoot us,” he explained.

Marinette didn’t reply, just wept shaking against his side.

It hurt him. A lot. Too much.

“Let’s go, hold on tight. I won’t drop you,” he mumbled to her, hearing how a third bullet hit the beam and bounced to whatever direction with a high pithed cling.

They were idiot. Lunatics. Shooting at them with a crowd around. The bullet could easily hurt a civilian.

From that Chat understood now that Ladybug wasn’t most likely coming. Something was wrong and the citizens knew it. Perhaps she’d arrive if he waited for longer, but he didn’t want to risk Marinette’s life. He knew she was innocent. If there was a bone to pick with someone, it was him and the bone belonged to Ladybug. She needed to get no bullets, not for him.

He threw Marinette over his shoulder, holding her tightly as he dashed to the opposite direction from the police, hastily thinking the best route to distract the police and the crowd from them. He threw his baton on the ground, its length giving them support and time for Chat to think for a second as they swung forward.

“Marinette, you must hold on me!” Chat yelled at her, not getting any reply back. He stopped for a second on a rooftop, letting her down and then picking her up to his back in a haste. She did as he asked her to, wrapping her arms around his neck, still all silent.

“I will drop them off from our tracks,” he could hear a police siren whining in the distance, coming closer. “Hold on tight, this will be a bumpy ride.”

He couldn’t tell her how he was covered with cold sweat. How his knees prayed for mercy, or how his vision got blurry for moments. How his guts where turning upside down, making him want to throw up any second.

_She looked at him, from the furthest library corner table, with those sad big blue eyes, completely taken back by the moment she saw it was Adrien Agreste who smiled at her, taking a seat next to her so casually._

Chat Blanc gasped for breath, his hands shaking. He needed to find a place to hide.

_She replied to his smile awkwardly, her eyes darting here and there, cheeks flushing slightly. She wasn’t trying to come onto him, nor she was trying to find an excuse to get herself out there, because if the famous girls knew she was sitting in a library with Adrien Agreste, they would torment her to death -but she wasn’t afraid of that._

His house. He should go there. It was a good hiding place. His stomach turned so much Chat let out a groaned moan of discomfort, an acidic taste rising up to his throat.

_She showed him the small detail she was admiring; a fresh shade of purple. She said she wanted to try a dress out of that color, if she could only find a fabric dyed like that. Her voice had been a bit weak, but warm nevertheless._

It was close. The safety. He was almost there…

_“I’m going to be a fashion designer someday,” she sighed, drawing a heart over the favorite color of hers on the book with her finger, “I really like your father’s designs. They are inspiring.” No one ever talked to Adrien about his father’s design. They only said how much they loved and admired him, or his father, because he was rich and powerful. But Marinette said something else, with a sincere, loving spark in her eyes while she did so._

The window. He could make it. There was no one nearby, no polices, no cars. His hiding place was far away from the Eiffel. He could make it. He was just in front of the house. The window.

_“I’m sure you will do fine, so go for it, Marinette! Maybe someday I can wear your design. I’d like that.”_

The window crashed into millions of pieces when Chat Blanc jumped through it, landing inside his hiding cave located in a high, abandoned attic. He dropped Marinette on the wooden floor abruptly, gasping for air, and rushed to the kitchen sink, throwing up with a force.

_“I will wait for that day, then!” she smiled back at him, her eyes finally meeting with his, drilling into his soul like she would always had a place in there._

“..Ch...Chat?” Marinette called him, wobbling towards him with shaky legs and teary eyes, her hair as a complete mess all around her face.

Chat vomited again, his eyes stinging and nose burning. Threw up from the very bottom of his core, body convulsing with each gag. His fingers squeezed the sink’s edge tightly, wide shoulders shaking.

_“And if I can't wear your design, for some reason, I can sit in the front row and clap at you and your designs. I promise!”_

Chat felt himself broken, utterly broken, completely beyond any repairing at that very moment, when he let the water run free to the sink, taking his stomach’s content with it. He turned around and wiped his running eyes and nose, his legs like jelly.

“Marinette…” he gasped out, stumbling towards the wall, taking support from it. His side hit it and he tottered on his long legs. “I’m sorry… I should have thought about this more… I couldn’t let them shoot you…”

“You almost dropped me you shit! What about our deal?!” Marinette yelled at him, furious and angry and sad, her hands curled into fists.

He couldn’t look at those eyes. Couldn’t do it. He closed his eyes and saw the smiling Marinette in his mind, flipping pages after pages in the library.

“Never,” he replied with a shaky breath, “I never, never intended to drop you… I did it because I needed real shock… Something to scare everyone, even you… I needed Ladybug to see it…” He slid down against the wall, landing on his behind with slightly trembling knees. “I couldn’t let them harm you…”

Marinette stood in the middle of the room, staring Chat with moist cheeks, lips apart, her brows knit together. Slowly he lifted up his chin, taking a direct look at Marinette’s face.

“Something is wrong… With everything,” he breathed out, not wanting to tell Marinette the truth. “I feel so sick. I need to sleep a while…”

“Chat,” she whispered, stepping closer, her eyes focused on his, “The blackness has spread again…”

Chat’s eyes widened and he took a look at his body, an audible gasp coming out from his lips as he saw the same as Marinette; the blackness had indeed spread up to his shoulders, his legs also almost completely dark. He didn’t take a look at it, but Chat was sure his tail was pretty much all black now, too, all to way to its root.

Marinette pointed at his face.

“Your mask, too…” she said quietly.

Chat paled, his hands coming up to his face touching the mask, like he could find the marks with his fingers.

“Where?”

“Around your eyes. Like some bad smoky eyes,” Marinette smiled weakly. His heart felt immediately lighter by that sigh. Yet, he gritted his teeth, angrily.

“Forgive me, Marinette. I have never ever asked anyone’s forgiveness, but now I must. I should have told you my plan. I should have trusted you more to know you would act with it, pretend to be shocked. Tell you that no matter what, I wouldn’t let you fall,” he turned his head away with a pained hiss, “A villain I might be, but a killer I am not. I’m not one of those lowlife motherfuckers. I’ve got my dignity and some morals left.”

_“It’s okay, you can borrow mine. Here. Remember to return it to me later, it’s my fave butterfly pencil.”_

Chat Blanc bolted up with the last remains of his strength, rushing again to the sink and puked for the third time, his whole body shaking as he did.  He opened the tap once more, this time splashing water on his face and bangs, shaking his head.

It all was coming back too fast. He needed to sleep. Needed to stop this outpour now.

“A—Are you alright?” Marinette’s small voice was just next to him.

What could he answer? Chat didn’t know. He turned his head to Marinette, still hunching over the sink.

“I just feel sick,” he said, feeling himself weak and exhausted after throwing up so many times in a row. There was no way he could tell her anything of what was going on in his head. What was truly going on with Chat Blanc.

“I wonder if it has something to do with your suit changes?” she pondered out loud, her face back to normal.

Chat eyed her from head to toe, still too weak to get properly up.

“Do you believe me? About what I said to you? About not going to drop you and keeping my mouth shut just for the show?”

Marinette stood next to him silently, her eyes drifting away from Chat, slowly.

“…I do. I can tell when people lie to me. Your eyes were sincere. But, that was still a bad thing to do. I was honestly afraid I was going to die,” she muttered while rubbing her forearm, her voice stinging Chat’s chest violently.

“You die over my dead body only!” he hastily blurted out, realizing too late he had said something utterly impropriate, something completely unnatural to his character. Marinette realized this too, turning slowly her head back to Chat, her eyebrow cocked in a questioning frown.

Chat could feel his skin heating up.

“I mean you are no use to me if you are dead! I still need to find Ladybug and you are my closest hint to her,” Chat quickly corrected his slipped statement, standing up a bit too quickly. The world spun around in his head and he groaned, taking a hold of his head.

“We’re in this deal together alright, but if you have next stunt in your sleeve for god’s sake Chat, tell me about it! Otherwise it creates mistrust and you know how that goes then. Besides, I still trust you to help me to find Adrien, so you have to also trust me, trust that I will help find Ladybug,” Marinette scolded him, sounding a bit concerned in Chat’s ears. She offered some support for Chat, taking a hold of his upper arm. “You should rest now. After that I must ask you to take me back home. You’ll make my parents and friends worried.”

“I’ll consider that,” Chat muttered, missing half of what Marinette had said. His chest and stomach hurt.

“I’m serious,” Marinette continued, watching the room around them. Chat was walking forward to the corner of the room, where a small mattress was laid bare on the floor.

“What is this place?” she asked, helping Chat down. He winced with a headache, sitting on the mattress.

“My lair, though now that the window screen is broken I need to find a new one,” he hissed eyes closed, placing himself comfortably on his bed. He didn’t see how Marinette inspected the room with a sad frown.

“How long have you been here? Are you alone?”

“Do you see many people here?” he huffed, throwing his now black arm over his eyes, “Years. I think I have been here two or three years. Don’t tell Ladybug about my hideout. This is the only place where I can rest,” he was honest about it.

“Chat,” Marinette said sitting next to Chat and pulled her knees under her chin, “About Ladybug… You said something like your time is running out… Is this sickness because of it? Are… are you dying?”

He lifted his forearm up, his eyes meeting with Marinette’s worried gaze. His lips parted and he had to tore his eyes away from hers.

She looked almost the same as back then. Only more mature.

“No, I’m not dying. I just feel sick, like we humans do.”

“…You asked me once do you look human to me, when I asked about your human side,” Marinette pointed out. Chat had to chuckle at that.

“I lied,” he sighed out. “But you knew that, yes? What else could I be? An alien?”

Strange. He was having a conversation with Marinette and he had no interest nor energy to start to be cocky or bossy around her now. No need to sneer and make fun of her.

“…I seriously thought that one of those bullets would hit you,” he croaked out suddenly, keeping his eyes hidden. “That’s why I left.”

He couldn’t say that was only half of the truth.

“I’m glad you did. I’m too young to die,” Marinette hummed and patted his head, “You go to sleep, so you can take me back home when you’ve rested, before this mess gets any worse.”

“…You are free to go, if you want. The exist is over there,” Chat pointed out the door in the opposite direction with his other hand, “It’s pretty long way to walk, but public transportation runs even here.”

“I’ve got no cash or a traveling card with me,” she pointed out, shifting a bit. “So I’ll walk, if you don’t swing me back home.”

“I’ll take you there. That’s the least I can do. Don’t get me wrong, we’re not friends. It’s an apology,” Chat hissed sharply, his hiss turning into a full yawn. “I’ll take a nap. Don’t go anywhere. I’d hate to wake alone.”

That, for once, Chat Blanc was completely honest with.

 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Marinette watched how the sun was setting in the horizon. She was still sitting on the floor near Chat, watching him to sleep. He had tossed and turned, lying on his back head slightly turned to Marinette’s side, and she was sure she could see bags under his eyes underneath that mask. He had been sleeping for a few hours, and she sincerely hoped Chat would wake up before the night time.

While sitting alone in a silence Marinette had plenty of opportunities to think. Something had changed drastically in the man before her, and Marinette pondered if it was due the changes in his suit. Were they linked? Or was the suit the cause for Chat’s suddenly friendlier persona? Or, was it his human side talking? Perhaps he just played cocky bastard, but wasn’t that in reality? Like having a public image which he needed to keep up for his villain role’s sake?

She also pondered his mother. Pondered many things, while watching him to sleep; events of today, their contract, his ring, his suit, her earrings and most importantly Ladybug.

She couldn’t keep this up too long anymore. She would need to dare to face Chat Blanc as Ladybug. Otherwise he could come up other crazy stunts, same way as the public was coming up with the police and those guns. Marinette hadn’t really realized how dependable Paris had become of her. How the city freaked out if she didn’t show up in a regular basis. This was now a much bigger case than her love for Adrien and her selfish reasons to try to win Chat Blanc to her side, to get the ring.

She looked at his ring on his right nameless. It was right there. She could just snatch it and run away. She had her earrings on and the ring was there. With that she could find Adrien and battle Chat Blanc. Probably kill him also if she wished.

But Marinette didn’t feel any interest of stealing his ring. The whole idea gave, right at this very moment, nothing more than pure emptiness to her chest. She had to admit she had started to feel sorry for Chat, and taking his ring like this would have felt absolutely wrong. If Marinette wanted the ring, she should give him a chance to defend it. Meet him fair and square, as Ladybug, and use everything she had learned as her advance. Avoid using Lucky Charm for as long as possible, stretching the time limit of her transformation with that.

If this had happened earlier, Marinette wouldn’t have had any hesitation to take the ring and eliminate Chat Blanc’s villain career, returning him back to human, and also find Adrien. But now, she felt sorry for Chat. She had started to think that most likely it needed lots of hurt and bad karma to turn into a villain. Suspecting from the loss of his mother and the fact he lived alone in an abandoned attic room with whatever items he had managed to steal somewhere, with no one to turn to or have evil plans with, Marinette was pretty sure Chat had been a good man. That he still was a good man underneath that suit. Or at least a decent one. If anything, she should save his soul first and go then for Adrien. It was her duty as Ladybug.

In her mind she cursed herself for not being able to find out yet why Chat needed her. Why was he so desperately after Ladybug. She feared she wouldn’t be able find that out soon enough.

Chat stirred in his sleep, mumbling something with a sigh. Her attention turned to his relaxed face.

For some reason she was thinking of Adrien around Chat Blanc nowadays. He constantly reminded her about Adrien and her goal to find him. To settle everything with her past, bring peace to her weeping soul and also hopefully ease whole Agreste family’s loss. To lose both wife and a son must have been so horrible Marinette couldn’t even imagine how that felt.

Her gaze wandered on Chat’s face, her head tilting to right. Now that she looked at him, when he wasn’t sneering or showing his teeth, he actually looked quite easy on the eye. He had harmonious features, nice nose, rather beautiful lips and playfully Marinette pondered what color his eyes truly were. He had blond hair, so maybe he also had pale irises, as his hair didn’t look like dyed – on the other hand it was possible it was miraculous’s doing and he had completely different hair. Brown? Red? Black? For some odd reason the blond hair just seemed the best, so Marinette amused herself and decided he would have blond hair anyway. It wasn’t like the hair always changed completely – her own hair just got brighter blue tone under miraculous’s effect, a blue tone which she already had naturally.

Maybe Chat Blanc got green eyes, like Adrien. Blond hair and green eyes, just like Adrien. He had kind of a same hairstyle, too, a bit longer only.

“Adrien,” she sighed dreamily out loud, remembering how he had looked like as a teenager and how handsome he must be now, as Marinette simply refused to believe he had died. She would fully accept that only when she saw his dead body or death certification with her own eyes.

“Hmmm…” Chat muttered, turning his head slightly.

“Oh, please wake up, I want to go home already,” she whispered to him, but Chat just continued his snoring.

“Chat Blanc?”

He hummed again, but didn’t reply nor wake up. Marinette buffed her cheeks.

“Geez, if you just were as good gentleman as Adrien…” she pouted her lower lip out.

Chat turned again, his moan louder this time.

Marinette waited him to wake up this time, finally, but as soon as he had let out his moan, he didn’t even stir. Just slept like a baby.

“Chat Blanc?”

Another hum, this time he also turned a bit, but didn’t wake up.

“Seriously, get up…!” she huffed quietly. 

Chat didn’t react in any way.

"...Chat....." she whined, earning again a short nonsense mumble from him. "We need to continue this plan of ours so I can find Adrien..."

"Hmmrrmmm," he purred again, eyes closed, not showing any other signs of waking up. 

An odd thought ran suddenly through Marinette. Like lightning from a bright sky. It was so unreal Marinette couldn't ignore it. She shifted closer to Chat Blanc, staying on her knees and pushed her head lower to him.

“Chat Blanc?” she whispered.

A hum and licking of lips, which happened right after when his name was spoken.

“…Jean?”

Nothing. Just soft snoring.

“Leon?”

Again, nothing.

“…Adrien?”

Chat groaned softly, taking a deep breath and relaxing then, continuing his sweet dreams.

Marinette blinked her eyes, staring at Chat’s face. Her face paled.

“Chat Blanc?” she whispered quietly and Chat wrinkled his nose. Then he rubbed it, turning his side, now back to Marinette, and let out a deep exhale. Then he was snoring again.

Marinette felt how her mouth dried. She shifted even closer to Chat and hovered above him. His face was serene and peaceful, his ear visible from underneath his blond hair.

“Jean? Leon?” she asked, but got no reply. She tried with Casanova, Romeo and Henri, but Chat didn’t hear nor care.

Her fingers trembled as she let out a familiar name from her lips.

“Adrien?”

He hummed, with a questioning tone this time, immediately after Marinette had speak that name.

Marinette paled even more, feeling how her heart started to beat fast in her chest. She was probably delusional, probably just too tired of everything, but she had try again. She brushed carefully his hair away from his face, watching his side profile with quivering lips.

“…Adrien?”

“Hmm-uh?” he snorted quickly through his nostrils and licked his lips, mumbling something in return.

She sank back onto her behind, her hands dropping down to her lap. She felt cold and hot, shocked and scared at the same time. This had to be a joke or her mind's trick. Marinette barely dared to think about it. 

Was he here? The man she had been looking for all these years? Was Adrien Agreste actually Chat Blanc? Had he disappeared, not because he was dead or gone, but because he had transformed into Chat Blanc? Was that why he was so interested in hearing about Marinette’s memories and details of Adrien? Was the mother, he talked about, actually Gabriel Agreste’s wife, Adrien’s mom?

If so, what had happened? Why did he lead her on if he knew who she was?

Marinette couldn’t stop her tears as she watched his back, his side rising and falling with a steady, peaceful rhythm of breath.

Was this villain her beloved Adrien?

 

 

 


	7. The Evidence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Marinette's life takes a new turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took forever to get this chapter done! I had too much other things demanding my energy ToT  
> Thank you for your feedback! There are still some messages waiting for my reply and I return to them later.

Chat woke up after which seemed like countless hours of sleep. His head felt foggy and his eyelids just wanted to stay closed, but Chat forced himself up. Marinette’s attention turned to him immediately when he stirred and Chat noticed she was sitting just next to his head, hugging her knees.

“How are you feeling?” she asked with a quiet voice, a small smile on her lips.

Chat’s cat ears flattened slightly.

“Better, but you don’t look that good…” he noted, inspecting Marinette’s worn face and tired eyes.

She brushed her bluish black hair back behind her ear, still smiling weakly.

“It’s nothing,” she replied, obviously lying. Chat didn’t feel like prying so he let it pass through him.

“Anyway, I promised to take your home. It’s late. Sorry it took so long,” Chat sat up, eyeing the broken window and smelling the moist night air. He guessed it was around nine or something similar. A way after sunset. He pondered quietly why Marinette had stayed behind and not walked home, but on the other hand he couldn’t blame her for wanting to hitch a ride. It was a long, long walk back home.

“Never mind. I just forgot my phone. I need to go back and call parents. Everyone saw your stunt at the Eiffel, so I’m sure they are sick with worry by now,” Marinette turned her head away from Chat, eyes blankly staring in front of her. “I’m been mulling over what to tell them.”

“About what?” Chat asked.

“About us. That stunt.” She hugged her legs tighter.

“It was an abduction. Let’s keep it as one,” Chat pointed out with a scoff, sensing how his stomach was starting to heat up again when he thought who Marinette truly was. How much he had actually secretly admired Marinette when he had realized she wasn’t after him nor afraid of him. Just a bit timid around him back then.

It had been so long ago. How had he even forgotten it in the first place?

“…I’m sure,” Marinette’s voice distracted Chat.

“Uh, what?” he asked, earning a bit confused look from Marinette, her head turning to him.

“That dad will be very furious with you,” she repeated her statement.

Chat didn’t say anything. He knew he had fucked things up and any loving father would defend his child.

Any loving father.

“Let’s go then. I don’t want to make him any angrier, nor upset your mother more either,” he mumbled standing up slowly. He pulled Marinette up from the wooden floor and couldn’t help to notice how her face darkened. He kept holding her hand when she was on her feet, his eyes drilling into Marinette. She took a quick look at Chat’s face but hastily averted her gaze.

“Before I go home, I have a request. You don’t have to fulfil it though,” she whispered softly, her hand staying in Chat’s palm.

“Anything,” he blurted, then corrected himself as quickly, “I mean, I owe you that much. Because of this everything.”

Marinette didn’t seem to notice his first choice of a word, but pressed her chin down, her long eye lashes casting a shadow over her slightly flushed cheeks.

“I’d like to visit him…” she finally managed to say out loud.

“Sure,” Chat nodded and squeezed her palm unconsciously, hoping the scorching feeling of a heartburn wouldn’t get any worse from this.  The idea of going to the graveyard didn’t, in all honesty, appeal to Chat Blanc at all at this very moment, but he knew he would hate himself if he didn’t take Marinette there. She had a reason to go there now, even though when the request sounded odd in Chat’s ears, and he made his mind not to start asking any questions. He had already made enough damage for this young woman.

She suffered, as he had suffered.

Chat thought it wasn’t fair. Life wasn’t fair, at least not for him, but he didn’t want Marinette to suffer. Yet, she was. Clearly. Aching and saddened, all because of him.

If there was a word for guilt in Chat’s world, this was the first time he was actually feeling it. And the heartburn just grew worse.

He had never thought anyone would actually miss him or that his actions would affect someone negatively, someone, who wasn’t supposed to get in this mess in the first place.

How he had never even imagined something like that could happen?

Perhaps it was because---

“Are you still feeling sick?”

Marinette asked softly, and hastily Chat shook his head.

“Nah, I’m good. I’m ready to go if you are,” he replied, letting go of her hand.

She nodded and Chat picked her up onto his back. The air outside was rather chilly for the season, and Chat decided it was the best to reach the graveyard as soon as possible to keep Marinette warm. He squeezed her legs against his side tightly, wishing it would give some of his body heat to her.

Chat Blanc frowned when he thought how considerable he had become towards Marinette, and how suddenly it all had happened.  
  
If he remembered right, he still might have had her pencil he had borrowed somewhere saved. Yes… yes it was. It was on the upper drawer of his expensive drawer located in his own room in his father’s mansion. He had saved it. God, he really had saved it, that red butterfly pencil Marinette had lent him. He had loved how the pencil had reminded him of just a regular everyday life the majority of Parisians lived, and how far it was from Adrien’s grip. With that pen he could at least dream a bit, pretend to be normal.

Chat said nothing to Marinette on the way to his empty grave and he was glad Marinette didn’t want to strike any conversation with him either. To be honest, he wouldn’t have known what to answer, if she did. When they finally arrived the destination, the air had gotten even chillier and the graveyard was eerily silent.

“Here we are,” Chat said, putting Marinette down. They had stopped right to the crossroad which led to the Agreste family grave. Chat didn’t want to follow Marinette, but he found himself walking right behind her. Marinette’s shoulders slumped the lower the closer the tombstone came and when they finally were standing in front of the dark stone with golden letters, Chat was too afraid to ask how Marinette was doing. She stood in front of him, hugging her arms, head bowed down.

_“Did you find any fabric with that purple color of yours?” he asked, when Marinette walked pass him. She stopped, completely startled that he had spoken to her, but soon a small smile broke onto her face._

_“No, not yet,” she replied shyly, pressing her folder tighter against her chest, “I thought about dyeing it myself if I can’t find any.”_

A cold sweat broke up to Chat Blanc’s forehead.

_“La Authentique has wide selection of different fabrics. I’d recommend checking that out,” he continued._

_Marinette shook her head._

_“I know, it’s a really good store, but the prices there are too much for me.”_

_He paled, immediately regretting his words. Was that too expensive? Actually he had no idea what was inexpensive or expensive for other people._

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, realizing he had said that out loud to the Marinette in his head.

She shook her head, the same way she had done when they had spoken about the fabrics, hugging her arms tighter.

“I’ll be okay soon,” Marinette said quietly, her hair whirling in the wind which was picking up. Chat could smell rain in the night air.

“We’re going to get wet if we don’t leave now,” he noted.

“You can go if you want. I’m going to stay here for a little longer,” Marinette replied, keeping her back turned to Chat Blanc.

“If I leave you here, you won’t get out until morning when the gates are open again,” Chat pointed out and he was surprised when Marinette let out a small chuckle.

“I have my ways to get out,” she replied, continuing then with a shaky voice, “but I have no means to… I mean…”. Her head sank lower, hands dropping to her side limply. “…I’m sorry… Just… just wait a little longer, Adrien. I will find you and when I do, I will hug you and tell you how much fun I had in the library with you. I will take you to our bakery and give you the cheese filled croissants you said you loved so much.”

The croissant… He remembered now… She had brought them to school one day and he had eaten his own at the back seat of his father’s car… Chat Blanc’s knees felt wobbly.

_“If you like these, maybe I can bring you some more? I’m sure mom and dad won’t mind.”_

_“I’m sorry, but the one yesterday was enough for now. I need to watch my weight.”_

_“Oh… Oh right, the modeling,” she smiled with a blush._

Marinette turned around suddenly, her cheeks wet with tears. She looked at Chat Blanc with an odd look, but said nothing. She broke into a howling cry, burying her face between her palms, sobbing uncontrollably as the first drops of the rain lingering in the air fell down from the dark sky.

Chat felt himself even guiltier than earlier, Marinette’s wailing voice making his heartburn a lot worse. He stepped closer to Marinette and did something Chat Blanc had never done before and pulled her against his body to an awkward hug. He expected her to jolt or push away, but instead Marinette accepted his gesture, her face burying onto his shoulder with a loud sob. He didn’t dare to move or speak. Just let her cry in his arms, the guilt rotting his soul when it was really sinking in how his actions had affected someone innocent like Marinette.

How there really had been someone who had thought warmly of him, but he hadn’t seen it nor believed in it.

“I’m going to find you, Adrien. I swear I will find you,” she sobbed to Chat’s shoulder, her words piercing Chat’s soul.

He couldn’t let his facade break. Couldn’t let Marinette know who he was. He gulped down the tightness from his throat, focusing on the sound of the rain instead of her tears.

They stood in the cold rain together for a long time and when Marinette’s weeping had quieted, her body not trembling anymore in Chat’s arms, he broke the hug and patted her shoulder.

“Let’s get you back home,” he said, avoiding looking at her face.

“Take me to my parents,” she whispered, “I need to go there.”

“How about your phone?” he asked, remembering that she had mentioned it earlier.

“It’s alright,” Marinette waved her hand, looking exhausted and somewhat miserable. Her clothes were all soaked through and Chat hurried her to get ready for the leave. She didn’t resist his urging.

Chat Blanc realized just now that Marinette had indeed stopped resisting him. For why, he couldn’t tell, but the thought of her being willing to do anything to find Adrien, even blindly follow Chat Blanc, crossed his mind. For once he didn’t feel like using that opportunity for his own advance. He frowned, thinking how he needed to find Ladybug now, more than ever. It wouldn’t be helpful only for him but also for Marinette, as she deserved to know the truth, but there was no way Chat Blanc could let it slip from his lips that easily.

They reached Marinette’s home as fast as Chat was able to run from his legs, hoping Marinette wouldn’t get a cold. When her family bakery was at the close distance, Chat suddenly stopped on the rooftop, kneeling down so quickly Marinette almost tipped over his head.

“Uh, wh—what?” she tottered, her arms tightening around Chat’s neck. He hissed.

“It’s the police,” Chat murmured angrily.

Marinette stepped down from his back, her hand staying on his shoulder as she circled next to Chat, kneeling down. There was a police car in front of the bakery and despite it was late, bakery’s light was still on.

“They must be looking for me but you better be careful,” Marinette said while peeking over the roof’s edge. “I’d still stay hidden if I was you.”

“You bet I will. I don’t want to get shot again,” Chat growled, taking then a stern look at Marinette. “Stay alert. I fear their fingers are a bit too trigger happy because of me.”

Marinette stared at Chat’s face with a mild disbelief, but then she relaxed, smirking. “Don’t worry, I’ll be alright. I tell them you let me go and I don’t know where you are. You should go now, because they will probably come out and go searching for you anyway, despite of what I tell them and this rain won’t be slowing them down either.”

“The rain gives me a good cover,” he replied, his eyes narrow as he inspected the police vehicle. This time he was happy about his new, partially black suit, which would hide him well into the wet, dark city. He ran away from the rooftop after making sure the road would be clear, and Marinette watched how Chat Blanc disappeared into the rain.

It was an easy task to come down from the roof for Ladybug, so Marinette quickly transformed herself when she was sure no one would see her, and after landing down to the pavement she took her transformation off. She was tired and feeling suddenly awkward for bawling like that in front of Chat Blanc, especially when he was holding her so tenderly. Marinette couldn’t push off her earlier thought of what if Chat Blanc was indeed Adrien. She couldn’t know it for sure and taking a deep breath in Marinette made her mind to use her journalist skills and dig deeper into this mess. If Chat Blanc was indeed Adrien it would make her work both easier and more difficult. She would need to work carefully around the subject and if Chat Blanc was Adrien, protect his privacy for not letting anyone else find out the truth. If Adrien had become Chat Blanc, he either had been forced to do it or he had had a good reason for it. This was what Marinette thought about him. It broke her heart to think how much there had to be pain in Adrien’s life, if he had become Chat Blanc.

Marinette touched the door’s handle and stepped inside slowly. Her parents were in with two police officers and as soon as the door opened, all of their eyes turned to Marinette. Her parents jumped up from their seats when they saw who the guest was.

“Marinette! Oh, dear Marinette!” they cried in unison, hugging her despite of her completely wet clothes and hair, showering her with kisses.

“I’m alright, I’m alright. I’m sorry for all the trouble,” she hugged them back, trying to keep up the brave face and not let them notice how she had just cried.

“Oh, that was so horrible! We have been looking for you everywhere,” her mother wept with quivering lips.

“That man didn’t do anything to you, did he?” her father asked, his face full of anger. Marinette broke the hug with a smile.

“No, he didn’t do anything. He let me go,” she assured them and was about to continue how everything was okay now, but one of the police officers stepped closer, clearing his throat.

“We are glad to see you are unharmed, miss Cheng,” he began, “I must apologize for the shooting at the Eiffel.”

It wasn’t until now that Marinette noticed how the officers were wearing black suits, not regular police uniforms.

“Apology accepted,” she simply replied, feeling how the coldness was seeping deeper into her bones. “If you excuse me, I think I need to change to something warmer and dryer.”

“Absolutely,” the police officer agreed. “Though after that we must ask you to come with us to the station,” he looked somewhat apologetic.

“N-now?” Marinette blinked her eyes, looking both of the officers.

“Yes, it’s an urgent matter, miss Cheng. Please, go change and dry yourself. We can talk after that,” he gestured his hand towards Marinette. She took a questioning look at her parents, earning short nods from both of them.

“It’s alright, Marinette. Go on to change,” Marinette’s father’s eyes were gentle and comforting. Her mother took her upstairs and brought Marinette clean clothes, while Marinette took a quick warming shower.

While drying her hair she pondered what the police was after and her guess was it had something to do with Chat Blanc. Perhaps police wanted more information of him, now that he had held Marinette hostage for almost a day – or so they believed. Marinette decided it was the best to let them stay in that belief. She needed the answers of Chat Blanc for her own self first, before she could reveal anything to anyone – and, if he really did turn out to be no one else but the missing Adrien Agreste, Marinette had even more reasons to keep her lips sealed. In the back of her head she feared that maybe the police were about to question her about Ladybug, as she was known to be able to catch her on camera so easily. Whatever it was, Marinette knew she had to keep her cool in front of the official authority.

When Marinette returned the downstairs, the officers sitting from the sofa stood up in unison.

“I apologize that we have to bother you in this hour, but the matter is urgent,” the taller officer said.

“Is it about Chat Blanc?” Marinette asked without hesitation, but kept hidden the fact she really hadn’t been the victim everyone was thinking about.

“Yes. Any information of him is important and we believe you have got something we aren’t aware of yet after being captivated for so long. We also need to fill the regular report,” he replied, turning then to Marinette’s parents. “Please, wait here until we have questioned your daughter.”

They cast a slightly worried look at Marinette, but she replied to her mother and father with a reassuring smile, going to them for a hug.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon,” she said, taking a look at both of their faces after another. Not wanting to make the departure worse for her parents, Marinette left quickly with the police, thinking the sooner she dealt with this the sooner she could return back home. She was missing her own bed already.

During the ride to the police station the officers in the front spoke mostly to each other and Marinette thought feverishly what to tell them about Chat Blanc. She thought to go with “I don’t know” as much as possible, but she also knew she couldn’t fool professionals forever. Her best option was to play with the innocent victim status quo. She wouldn’t let them know anything she knew about Chat Blanc, wouldn’t let them to get even a slightest hint of her suspicions of Chat Blanc’s possible identity. That was the only plan Marinette had when the car stopped at the station and the officers guided her inside the building. Marinette was let through hallways, which were rather silent at this time of the day, to a quiet room. The officers left her there, telling how other investigators would be here soon, and asked if she wanted to have some coffee. She took the offer, realizing just how hungry she actually was.

After waiting for a while with her black coffee, a woman and a man in their mid-forties entered the room. Marinette stood up quickly.

“Investigator Mrs. Moreau, nice to meet you,” the woman with a curly hair and a folder in her hold shook Marinette’s hand.

“Investigator Mr. Leroy. I see the boys got you some coffee,” the man with slightly grayish beard shook also Marinette’s hand.

She noticed how both of their handshakes were firm.

“I’m Ms. Cheng, nice to meet you. The coffee was very welcomed thing to have. It’s so late already,” she replied, taking a seat with the investigators.

“This shouldn’t take long, if you answer our questions. It’s very important to get new information of Chat Blanc, so I want you to tell us everything you can remember, as much in detail as possible,” Moreau said, putting a recorder on the table. “Investigation case 354, Ms. Marinette Cheng,” she spoke after pressing the record button.

“Okay, Ms. Cheng, let’s start from the beginning. Can you tell us, by your own words, what happened at the Eiffel tower?” Moreau continued and Marinette got a feeling she was the chattiest one, while Leroy wouldn’t talk so much.

“I was minding my own business, when Chat Blanc abducted me. I understood that he thought he could lure Ladybug out if he threatened to harm a civilian,” Marinette explained.

“Where did you meet Chat Blanc?” the woman before Marinette continued.

“I was walking alongside Seine, to find some inspiration for my fashion designing hobby, as I was having a free day, when wham and bam! He just attacked me from behind. I didn’t realize at first what was going on.”

“I see. That must have been scary,” Moreau nodded, looking like she was feeling sorry for Marinette.

She fidgeted a bit in her seat.

“Yes… It was…” she sighed, casting her eyes down.

“You say fashion designing is your hobby. What’s your profession?” Leroy asked. Marinette was a bit surprised they asked that.

“I’m a freelancer journalist, but I also do blogging and other communicative work for multiple clients,” Marinette answered truthfully.

“Are you the same Ms. Cheng who takes pictures of Ladybug?” Leroy continued.

“Yes, though lately I haven’t been able to do that. I hope she’s alright and nothing bad has happened… I’ve gotten a feeling a whole Paris is more or less anxious of Ladybug’s disappearance,” Marinette tried to look worried, but not too much to come across as a fake.

“Parisians trust their lives in Ladybug’s hands. That’s why, when she’s not around, it is essential for us common citizens to do our part for the city’s safety. Currently the biggest threat for everyone is Chat Blanc. I think this is something you, as a journalist, also understand very well,” Moreau leaned back in her seat, her eyebrow knitting together.

“I do and I don’t want anyone to go through what I did with him,” Marinette said, taking a sip from her coffee.

“Back to Chat Blanc, what actually happened in the Eiffel tower? You said he was trying to lure Ladybug in?” Moreau returned to the topic they had started the interview with.

“Yes. I believe you have video footage of the event already. I saw many people with cameras filming around us.”

“And when the Ladybug didn’t appear, he retreated, but took you with him. Any idea why?” Moreau crossed her arms over her chest.

“I don’t know… He didn’t say why but I think he feared I might be able to get him into custody with my statement. That’s my guess,” Marinette offered with a shrug.

“He didn’t do anything to you while you were with him?” Leroy put in.

Quickly Marinette shook her head.

“No, nothing. A villain he might be, but he was like a gentleman to me. Very strange combination.”

“A gentleman?” Moreaus’s eye widened, “That’s an interesting choice of a word for him. Is there any possibility you’d actually know him?”

Marinette’s head shot up and she took a shocked look at the investigators.

“Wh-what? Me, knowing Chat Blanc? Believe me, it that was the case I wouldn’t be here helping you. I know how villains’ minds work and if I knew Chat Blanc, I couldn’t tell anything to you nor help you, as it would be my demise. He would butcher me,” Marinette managed to keep her voice natural, not squeaking or tottering under the pressure, under the thought perhaps Leroy and Moreau knew a lot more about Chat Blanc than they let her believe. It was likely they had investigated Chat Blanc a lot longer than Marinette had anticipated.

“Ah, but you said he was a gentleman towards you. Maybe he let this one slip between his fingers?” Leroy leaned closer to Marinette.

Marinette felt a cold shiver ran up her spine.

“Never. He almost killed me in the Eiffel Tower,” she replied back, her face serious. “Are you seriously accusing me for knowing Chat Blanc? What even makes you believe such a thing?”

“Ms. Cheng, you are quick to catch up. Must be your journalist side. So, I cut the chase; we do believe you know Chat Blanc, or have some alliance with him. Is this not true?” Moreau asked.

“Absolutely not!” Marinette breathed out, shocked. “I have nothing to do with Chat Blanc.”

“We went through the video evidence of the Eiffel incident today…. isn’t this you here?” Moreau pulled a printed screen capture and slid it towards Marinette. She pushed her head closer to see what it was and her fears turned out to be true; it was her, leaning against Chat Blanc under his arm, as they stood on the Eiffel’s beam.

“You look awfully comfortable there,” Moreau continued when Marinette couldn’t find any words.

“I was shocked.  I was scared for my life. I feared he would do something to me if I started to resist him. Are you, in all honesty, telling me I should have fought Chat Blanc, while standing on a beam in that height, to prove that I have nothing to do with him? Right after he has threatened to kill me and the police below us has almost hit me with a stray bullet?” her hands were shaking underneath the table, but Marinette’s eyes had fire in them.

“We heard from many videos Chat Blanc yelling at the police when they started the shooting – and I quote it from word to word – that ‘You shoot me and she’s dead when my grip slips. You shoot her and I kill you with my bare hands. Put the gun away before I come there and strangle you with it’”, Moreau looked through her papers, taking then a look under her brows at Marinette, “This doesn’t sound like something you’d say about some random citizen.”

“He’s a villain. I have no idea what he was thinking. Perhaps he feared he loses a good bait if I get killed? Perhaps he doesn’t like killing? I haven’t heard of any case where Chat Blanc would have killed someone,” Marinette defended herself calmly, pushing the printed picture back to Moreau.

“One of the cameras very close to the scene by captured Chat Blanc saying ‘Let’s go, hold on tight. I won’t drop you.’ On top of that you, Ms. Cheng, were calling him just ‘Chat’, yelling him about Ladybug. What kind of a random victim calls their kidnapper and abuser by their first name?” Moreau continued, completely unshaken by Marinette’s attempts of defending herself against the police’s accusations.

Marinette couldn’t find words fast enough.

“We know there are nut cases out there, villains and criminals who set their eyes on their victims and treat them like important possession that needs to be protected from harm, but Chat Blanc has never shown these traits towards anyone. We’ve been investigating him for years, as soon as we realized he would be a permanent threat for all Parisians, even with Ms. Ladybug around,” Moreau said when Marinette was quiet. She put her folder away and leaned on her elbows, staring at Marinette, “So, I’m going to ask again; what’s your relationship with Chat Blanc?”

“There is no relationship, I don’t know anything. I have nothing to do with Chat Blanc,” Marinette underlined her earlier statement, keeping her eye contact with Moreau.

“I fear this is a matter of a national security, Ms. Cheng. We can’t allow Chat Blanc run free. The faster we catch him, the better. Don’t you agree?” Leroy asked, his voice calm and content.

Marinette opened her mouth, her lips staying apart for a while before she could speak.

“Yes, Chat Blanc is dangerous, that’s for sure.”

“Isn’t it then good idea to co-operate with us and tell all you know, Ms. Cheng?” he continued.

“I… I have nothing to tell to you. I don’t know Chat Blanc, I’ve said that many times. Why would he even team up with a mere human like me? What would he gain from me?” Marinette was on a verge of jumping up from her seat.

“Maybe it’s not Chat Blanc who gains something from you, but you gaining something from Chat Blanc,” the inspector Moreau asked slyly.

“Excuse me?” Marinette spat the question out with a hiss.

“Surely he has promised you something?” Moreau offered.

“He hasn’t offered me anything and we have no deal. Wouldn’t it be more likely that if we had a deal, it was because he threatened me or my loved once if I didn’t obey him?” Marinette kept her head, feeling how this whole thing was going to a completely different way than she had ever imagined.

“You don’t seem too frightened or shocked,” Leroy put it simply.

“Alright, that’s it. I need a lawyer, if you are taking this route,” Marinette slammed her hands against the cool table, frowning at the inspectors. “My lips are sealed.”

The door of the room opened and a young man stepped in, handling something to Leroy. He took the folder, opened it and went through it, showing it to Moreau. Their faces spoke everything and they lifted their heads up to Marinette in unison.

“Unfortunately for you, Ms. Cheng, we have gained some evidence we can’t look between our fingers. And this is only one of them,” Leroy cleared his throat, putting the folder open on the table and turning it towards Marinette. “You can make one call to your parents, to tell them you will be staying with us.”

All the blood ran away from Marinette’s face, when she saw the evidence Leroy wanted her to take a look at. Someone had managed to snatch a picture of Chat Blanc on her balcony, and the other picture was from the time they were going to the Eiffel, Marinette clearly visibly on Chat’s back.  She couldn’t deny that wasn’t her apartment or that wasn’t her with Chat.

She couldn’t believe her bad luck.

Moreau crossed her arms on the table, her eyes piercing Marinette.

“Ms. Marinette Cheng, you are currently under arrest for abetting Chat Blanc.”

 


	8. The Finger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Chat Blanc strikes a deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing this chapter took a very long time..! I was out of energy and I hit an absolute rock bottom at work, crying 7 hours straight one day (don't worry loves, the task which stresses me a lot will end on August, if not earlier). I've concentrated on taking care of myself, drawing Marcus from FFIX and eating ice-cream after 2 years with very strict diet due health issues.
> 
> Than you for your continuous support! It means a lot to me! u///u

It made to the national news. It wasn’t supposed to happen, it was supposed to stay as a secret operation, but the nosy people of the media somehow got their hands on the information and soon tabloids and TVs reported how Chat Blanc’s sidekick Marinette Cheng had been caught. The city was torn in two; to those who rejoiced about this possibility to finally remove Chat Blank from the Paris’s streets for good, and to those who feared something bad might come out from this. There were also non-believers, who found it hard to swallow a woman with an angelic face was Chat Blanc’s advocate, thinking the man had most likely pressured or manipulated the poor woman. Some nasty rumors also speculated that perhaps this was some kind of a sick love affair, that maybe Ms. Cheng was either naïve or mentally imbalanced to get into any relationship with Chat Blanc.

Marinette noticed it was something the police also believed, as they didn’t leave her be with their questions, which implied Marinette had much more going on with Chat Blanc than a regular agreement. After all, it was always suspicious if a man and a woman worked together – and no matter how much Marinette defended herself with the help of her attorney, the best her parents had managed to hire for her with their incomes, the situation didn’t turn into any better. Marinette was kept under custody and heavy surveillance, just in case Chat Blanc would come up with something regarding the matter. The whole mess raged on and one for days and it was on the lips of every Parisian.

Gabriel Agreste wasn’t one of them. He couldn’t have cared less what was going on, as he had his own problems and more demanding matters to deal with. Of course he knew Marinette by name and remembered she had been one of Adrien’s classmates – like he would have allowed his son to even think about going to a school without him doing some research about his classmates and their families beforehand.

Poor girl. Something must have gone crazy in her life to be now partners in crime with Chat Blanc.

He concentrated on the new ad campaign’s emails, as there were some things he couldn’t leave for his assistants. Gabriel Agreste was well used to have all the strings in his hands. This particular campaign was extremely important to Agreste design, which had been struggling since losing its iconic model, Adrien Agreste. This was the 5th anniversary of his mysterious disappearance and it would also have marked his 20th birthday if Adrien was still around. Thus Gabriel Agreste himself took this campaign very seriously, getting lot of a headache to find the right models to represent his new product. He sat in his office, listening classic music and mumbling himself as he thought how to form the email the best.

Suddenly a big hand grabbed Gabriel from behind, a cold, steely sensation landing just underneath his jaw.

“Good day, Mr. Agreste,” he heard a low voice speaking into his ear, “We haven’t met before, but I’m sure you are familiar with my name.”

“…Chat Blanc?” Gabriel tottered unsurely, his hands still on the laptop’s keypad.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Agreste,” Chat purred, his claws digging into Gabriel’s expensive suit.

“How did you get inside?” Gabriel hissed, the cool blade tightly against his throat.

“Cats go anywhere they like,” Chat Blank whispered, tightening his grip even more.

“What do you want?” Gabriel asked as he tried to see Chat from the corner of his eye.

 “To talk. So, do as I say and no harm will be done. No security, no guards. Just you and me, talking. Like a man to man. If you try anything funny, I will get funny myself, too.” Chat explained, waiting for Gabriel’s reply.

He nodded shortly and Chat moved away slowly, his eyes fixated on Gabriel. The man straightened his tie and sat with a straight face, entwining his fingers. If he was shocked by Chat visit, he was very good at hiding it underneath his stony façade.

“What was it you wanted to discuss about, Mr. Blanc?” Gabriel murmured, his tone dry like always. He eyed Chat’s dual colored suit, but said nothing out loud about it.

Chat stood in front of Gabriel’s huge wooden desk, his sword now over his hip on a white belt.

“About Marinette Cheng,” he replied.

“Hmp, I figured it had to be something regarding that woman, though I must say that I can’t comprehend why would you, Mr. Blanc, come to talk with me about such matter,” Gabriel kept his voice steady, unemotional.

“To get her out from this mess. The police are trying to catch me and they will do it in Marinette’s expense,” Chat explained, his gaze never leaving from Gabriel Agreste.

Gabriel leaned against his elbow, his eyes narrowing.

“Then you should turn yourself in and tell them the truth, if you are implying Ms. Cheng is innocent.”

“I can’t. I have other businesses I need to take care of first and by then it might be too late,” Chat answered with a growl.

“Concerned of the lady’s safety?” Gabriel’s eyebrow cocked curiously.

Chat slammed his hands on the table with force, growling. “Yes,” he admitted with a spat.

Gabriel leaned back against in his leather chair, looking like he was, for a moment, surprised by Chat’s answer. However, he quickly regained his trademark composure and took a direct look at Chat’s face.

“Very well. I will hear you out for now, though I can’t imagine how I could be any help for you or Ms. Cheng,“ he spoke blankly, leaning against his chair.

Chat stared at Gabriel silently for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly.

“I’m very aware of your reputation, Mr. Agreste. Very,” he spoke slowly, “To get out of this mess Marinette needs the best lawyer the whole France has got. I’ve got no means to find one, at least not legally, but you do. Everyone knows Gabriel Agreste’s name. You’ve got resources, far beyond what hiring a top class lawyer requires.”

Gabriel said nothing to Blanc’s implement. He simply stood up and walked to the tall window, his hands behind his back, which was turned to Chat. He stood in front of the screen with straight back and chin high up in the air.

“Innocent or not, Ms. Cheng will gain nothing from me. Gabriel Agreste doesn’t work with criminals,” he scoffed and when Chat was about to open his mouth to speak back, Gabriel lifted his palm up in the air and continued, “Forcing me won’t do any good either, Mr. Blanc. I’ve got nothing to lose anymore, nothing you could blackmail me with.”

“I know about your wife and son,” Chat blurted with a low tone. The man turned his head slightly to look over his shoulder, his eyes tired.

“Sure you do, Mr. Blanc. Everyone does,” Gabriel replied, turning then to look back out from the window.

“I have a bargain for you, something you can’t say no to,” Chat said, shifting his weight to another leg. Gabriel remained on his spot, motionless, his face hidden from Chat.

“I highly doubt that, but let’s hear it,” he sighed after a pause, clearly unimpressed.

“If you use your resources to defend Marinette so that she gets her freedom, I promise to tell you where you find your son,” Chat licked his lips, but made sure Gabriel didn’t see or hear it.

As soon as Chat had laid his suggestion on the table, Gabriel burst in a full laughter, his voice echoing in the tall office room. He turned on his heels, looking at Chat with an amused look.

“That’s a new one,” he spoke smirking, but then his eyes grew forlorn, “Trust me, Mr. Blanc, when I say I highly doubt you have any information of my son. I’ve been looking for Adrien for years already, with any means and all the powers I have. Even Ladybug herself helped with the search, but nothing turned out. So, thank you but no thank you.”

Chat took a step closer to Gabriel, a grin appearing on his lips, widening from ear to ear.

“Oh, but Mr. Agreste, while I do know about your famous son, I must say my information is a lot juicier than what the public knows. There’s more, a lot more than you might think. But my lips are sealed, all the way until we have got a deal,” he smirked, his eyes starting to glow with something which caught Gabriel’s attention.

“I’m a man of my words, though. A gentleman a one might say,” Chat continued, his chin cocking up, “How has it been, Mr. Agreste? Have you missed your son Adrien? You liked to keep him locked in so much. Like a little pretty bird.”

Gabriel’s eyes became stony, stern. His lip pressed together as he pushed his shoulders back.

“My relationship with my son doesn’t concern you,” he murmured.

Chat sat on the corner of Gabriel’s office table, chuckling. He crossed his legs and took a deep, direct look at Gabriel with his cat eyes.

“Sure it does, a lot,” he began, “But as said, my lips are sealed until we’ve got a deal I want.”

“… Why would a villain like you be concerned of a woman like Ms. Cheng? Is it love, Mr. Blanc?” Gabriel asked suddenly with a calm tone. Chat snorted.

“I’m a gentleman, I told that much already,” he waved his palm in the air nonchalantly. “Sure another gentleman understands how man’s mind works.”

Gabriel didn’t reply to Chat Blanc. They stayed in a common silence for a good while, before Gabriel broke it with a determined voice.

“I have to turn your offer down, Mr. Blanc. You’ve got absolutely nothing to offer for me and I’m not interested in helping a villain. Though I feel sorry for Ms. Cheng, this matter doesn’t concern me the slightest. You may leave and find another way to defend Ms. Cheng, if she’s that important to you. A gentleman always takes responsibility of his actions,” Gabriel noted and turned away from Chat with a one, fluid movement.

Chat measured him up and down with his eyes, frowning slightly.

“A loving father, I see,” his voice was icy as he also stood up, earning Gabriel’s attention, as the older man took a look at Chat over his shoulder. “Very well. I would have been able to give you back your son, but as you clearly aren’t interesting in giving your all for finding him, I’ll make my leave.”

Immediately Gabriel faced Chat Blanc, closing the space between them within a second.

“Your tongue is sneakier than you are, Mr. Blanc,” Gabriel spoke venomously, looking like he wanted to say a lot more than he did, but his manners forbid him from slashing at Blanc, “Your threatening won’t help you, Mr. Blanc. Unless there’s a solid proof of your claims of knowing something essential of my son and his current location, something that can reunite me with Adrien, I won’t even consider any deal with a villain,” he noted calmly.

“And if there is?” Chat cocked his head, his eyes staring Gabriel tightly.

“Then I will offer my help for Ms. Cheng. I will help you get back someone important to you, as you will help me to get back someone important to me,” Gabriel said without any hesitation. “But as said, I highly doubt you can offer me anything new.”

Chat’s face was unreadable and the silence in the air hung heavy. The villain broke the tension by turning around, hips lips pressing together into a thin line. He was quiet.

“Can you get hold on Mr. Henri Coulon?” Chat finally asked, his back turned to Gabriel.

“Mr. Coulon is a friend of mine and I’m sure he will offer his help if asked, if that’s your request,” Gabriel replied shortly. 

Chat’s face flashed with a pain.

 “Ask me anything you want about your son, and I’ll give you an answer,” Chat said, his voice steady despite his expression, which was hidden from Gabriel.

“That won’t do, Mr. Blanc, as I can’t be sure of the source of your information. If you don’t have anything else to offer me than word games, I’m not interested,” Gabriel immediately shot down Chat’s offer, all for Chat’s dismal.

Chat turned his gaze to Gabriel, his purple eyes narrow, face stoic.

“What kind of information would satisfy you then?” Chat asked a bit too bitterly to keep up his stern façade.

Gabriel eyed him along the bridge of his nose, hands behind his back. He weighted his words carefully.

“Something which can’t be denied in any way,” he spoke calmly, seemingly understanding he had an upper hold of Chat.

The cat hesitated.

“Is bringing something which belongs to Adrien counted as reliable evidence?” he asked again and once more Gabriel shot down the offer.

“Nonsense. I’ve got everything Adrien owned right here. He didn’t take anything with him. Any item you present to me will be either fake or stolen from here.”

“…You drive a hard bargain, Mr. Agreste,” Chat hissed between his teeth, his fists balling, “You are basically asking impossibilities from me.”

“That’s is a fair bargain, Mr. Blanc, for me to dirty my hands with the mess which you have caused and asking me help Ms. Cheng without knowing anything of this matter, and do it with the help of Mr. Coulon, while media can’t find anything out of our deal. I’m sure you understand the gravity of your request, Mr. Blanc,” Gabriel stared Chat down from underneath his eyebrows.

“Marinette is important. Her life can’t be ruined because of this,” Chat’s voice rose up with an anger, his tongue slipping out something which made his position only worse.

Gabriel snorted slightly and shrugged his shoulders.

“Then, by all means, you must do everything you can in order to protect her, if she’s important to you, even without any help. I can tell you are still very young, Mr. Blanc. A man must always be worth of his words and ready to do anything to protect his loved ones,” Gabriel stopped for a moment, his gaze softening as he looked into the far distance, “…Anything,” he sighed, his brows knitting with pain.  
  
Chat didn’t say anything. Just stood in the middle of Gabriel’s office room, hands curled into fists, his eyes narrow and icy. Gabriel saw the look on his face from the corner of his eye and turned his attention back to Chat Blanc.

“It seems I’m unable to help you Mr. Blanc, so I must ask you to leave. I’ll let you go in peace without calling guards or noting the police. Take this as my way of showing proper manners as a gentleman for another,” he noted unemotionally and made his way back to his seat, focusing to his open inbox.

Chat was still standing on the same spot, glued on his feet. His face was serious and thoughtful.

“And before you even plan to harass Mr. Coulon, I beg you not to even consider it. Mr. Coulon isn’t as much of a gentleman as I am and he will contact the authorities, making also Ms. Cheng’s situation worse,” Gabriel added, when Chat wasn’t moving any muscle to get out from his room. “Looks like you are on your own, Mr. Blanc. Maybe this teaches you how important it is to keep your private things private and not to mess with unnecessary people,” he finished his sentence, returning to his email he had been writing before getting ambushed by Chat.

The quietness spread into the room, as Gabriel Agreste ignored Chat Blanc’s presence like he would have been nothing but air to the fashion mogul.

Chat gritted his fangs, eyes full with rage.

“You are free to leave, Mr. Blanc,” Gabriel noted to Chat without taking his attention away from his laptop, “I’m in a middle of very important business and I need no further distractions.”

“…In a theory it should work, but will it work practice…?” Chat suddenly murmured, his stare getting intense.

“We are done, Mr. Blanc,” Gabriel’s tone rose slightly with an annoyance, but Chat whirled around on his feet, slamming his hands on the Gabriel’s desk with a force.

“You want a proof of me knowing anything you can ever imagine about your son, Mr. Agreste,” his name came out like a poisoned hiss from Chat’s snarling lips, his back of a hair standing up with his fury, “I will give it a try, a theory of mine, which I wasn’t planning to use on or for anyone.”

“Wh-What are you talking about?” Gabriel’s voice had a slight shock in it, his eyes widening under Chat’s furious aura as the villain’s energy consumed the air around the desk. It was hard to breath.

“I’ll show you my knowledge, so be ready to keep the end of your deal, Mr. Agreste, or I will make your life as a living nightmare,” Chat’s voice hissed deep from his throat, his eyes flaring with purple light.

He slammed his right hand on the edge of the wooden desk, leaving only his nameless finger with the black corrupted ring to rest on the table. Then he reached out for his sword, unsheathing it.

“I’m sorry for your desk and carpet, but I don’t worry; you’ve got cleaners to cover it up,” Chat gave to horrified looking Agreste a final smirk, before he swung the sword with all his might, without any hesitation, separating his finger from his body, just underneath the black ring.

It hurt him like hell. Chat dropped the sword on the floor and took a hold of his bleeding hand with a pained grunt. On the other side of the table Gabriel Agreste was gasping in shock.

“You tell anyone about this and I’ll ruin you. Tear you down to the ground, to the lowest pits of hell from where you shall never rise up,” Chat gurgled in pain, his words coming out from his mouth in short, raging gasp as the blood seeped out from his palm. He staggered backwards from the table, seeing how Gabriel had jumped up from his seat and stared now the scene with an utter disbelief.

“What the hell are you doing?!” Gabriel hissed between is gritted teeth, still too shocked to be able to keep his voice from not stammering.

“If you claim to be who you are, if your devotion to Adrien runs as deep as you say, then…. then your soul, your company, everything belongs to me,” Chat continued, his body suddenly starting to convulse. He bit his teeth together not to cry out, not to alarm anyone other in the building. A bright light covered Chat completely, his struggle audible in the silent room as the light got brighter, blinding Gabriel so much he had to shield his eyes with his arm.

When the light had died out, after what seemed like an eternity, Gabriel squinted his eyes to see what was going on. His face dropped dead pale when he saw a young blond man in shredded, too tiny clothes, standing on the opposite side of the desk.

It was his son. His Adrien. As tall as his father now, with longer hair than he remembered, with an acute face and broad shoulders, but the softness in his green eyes from the teenager years had died, being replaced with something menacing, something which chilled one’s bones down to their core.

“A—Adrien?” Gabriel tottered, his face white as sheet. He made his way closer to his son, hands trembling.

“Father, do you love me?” Adrien asked, his stare as cold as ice. His hand was still bleeding, staining the remains of his clothes and the expensive designer carpet underneath his feet. Pearls of sweat rolled on his fair forehead.

Gabriel’s mouth was gaping, closing and opening as he tried to understand what he was seeing, “Wh—? Of course I do! Do you know how much I have looked for you, how much I have sweated to find you?! How could you—“

“Enough!” Adrien barked furiously, stopping Gabriel in mid-sentence. He snatched his cut-off finger from the table, yanked the ring off from it and put it into his left nameless with bloody hands. The white and black mists spurted out from the ring and in mere seconds Adrien was gone. Only Chat Blanc stood there.

The bleeding had stopped with the transformation, but the place where his nameless had used to be remained empty.

“Do you understand now, Mr. Agreste? Your love towards me commands you to help me out. You said that yourself, that a man is always ready to do anything for their loved ones, and to prove you aren’t just shit talking, I demand a favor.  You, your empire, your everything, belongs to me. I can bring you down in a mere second if it turns out your son, Adrien Agreste, is the Paris’s terrorizing villain everyone’s hunting down. If you think your reputation has been ruined by Adrien’s disappearance, you have yet seen nothing. I’m the one who is in charge with this deal,” Chat Blanc crept close to Gabriel, his head up high and shoulders pushed back. He stared the older man down maliciously.

“What have you done, Adrien?!” Gabriel hissed angrily, visibly shaking.

“Adrien is not here right now, but I, Chat Blanc, may speak for him,” Chat sneered, his fangs flashing, “You want to save your son? Better start to act like a good father then.  Then I might return him to you. Right now Chat Blanc has unfinished businesses and Adrien won’t be even close by until Chat is done.”

“I demand, Adrien, you must stop this nonsense! If this is somehow my fault, I will figure a way to fix it, but before that you must take that ring off and stop this stupid villain play. Come back home,” Gabriel croaked, his tone of a voice becoming almost helpless.

“What part of ‘Adrien is not here’ you didn’t understand?” Chat spat pushing his head so close to Gabriel their noses almost touched. He gritted his teeth together, “Are we clear with our deal now, Mr. Agreste? Or shall I prove Chat Blanc is a man of his words and does what he plans to, without any hesitation?”

Gabriel searched Chat Blanc’s eyes to find even a hint of his son from there, but he saw nothing of Adrien. Only malicious fury and determination whirled in those glowing orbs.  He remained quiet under Chat’s stare for a short moment before finding his voice.

“I don’t understand what is going on, but I had a bad feeling about how my gut feeling would be right…” he said, sounding like he was mostly speaking to himself. “Alright, Mr. Blanc, I understand you clearly. We have a deal. Just between us, man to man.”

“Good,” Chat grinned, pulling back from Gabriel’s face. “You can keep this. As a reminder of our deal,” Chat placed his cut-off human finger on the office desk from his hold, sliding it closer to Gabriel in a slow movement.

Gabriel stared the finger, his skin pale as sheet.

“I will help Ms. Cheng out and you will return back home and we sort this out. If I need to cover you, I will do it,” he managed to say without tottering, tearing his eyes away from the grim sight.

Pleased with himself Chat started to walk away to the door where he had managed to slip in, a smug grin dancing on his lips.

“I knew we could find a common agreement. It’s been a pleasure, Mr. Agreste,” Chat chuckled darkly at the door.

“I do this all only because you are my son. Your mother might be gone forever, but if I have a chance to bring back my son, I’ll do whatever it needs,” Gabriel corrected Chat, his shoulders hunching down as his facial expression turned into sadness. “I’ll contact Henri Coulon immediately.”

Chat said nothing. Just took a quick, thoughtful look at Gabriel before he sneaked out from the office room, hastily going back via his earlier tracks and finding a safe place to come out from the manor.  Quickly he scanned the area before proceeding to find a good hiding place, stopping into a darkness of a tiny alley, far away from any sights. He landed on the ground silently and immediately took a hold of his aching palm, hissing with agony.

His theory had worked. He had been playing around with the idea that the transformation might come off if the finger with the ring was cut off while the ring was on the finger. It could disturb the energetic connection, some odd abracadabra-quantum physical shit Chat couldn’t really understand completely. He had started to ponder that idea just lately, forced by the fate. Never had Chat Blanc imagined he would actually do it. Today, however, had been the day when such drastic measures were needed.

While taking a look at his aching hollow spot on the right hand Chat pondered had he been too hasty. What if he could have been able to pursue his plan to free Marinette in some other way? When doubt started to grew to heavy Chat had to remind himself of how he had already gone through all other possibilities to save Marinette. Ever since he had heard about Marinette’s arrest, he had been pondering a way to free her. His last options, which wouldn’t cause any harm to Marinette, were either turn to Ladybug – who had mysteriously vanished and who absolutely would turn him to the authorities, that woman was too much into the justice shit – or to Gabriel Agreste. The man with fame, power, money and connections. The man he had called a father in the past. The man who was someone you could not negotiate with without drastic measures.

An image of his mother’s face flashed in Chat’s mind suddenly and he shook his head, ridding himself from such vision. He didn’t need that now. Now he needed to worry for Marinette and a one woman at time was enough for Chat to deal and worry with.

He hadn’t really even understood how much he worried for Marinette, but in Chat’s eyes it was logical; she was his VIP-pass to Ladybug’s presence. He hadn’t forgot his initiative, which was to capture Ladybug. If he wanted her, he needed Marinette.

Cussing at his aching hand he remembered he had forgotten his sword on Agreste’s manor’s floor. Hastily Chat turned to look at his side, seeing only an empty sheath and spotting also something dramatic going on with his suit;

It had turned almost completely black. Only a white spot over his chest was visible.

He paled, not wanting to think what these constant changes meant and where they were coming from. He needed to find Ladybug before it was too late. Before his suit would be completely black, which would lead to an unknown result, maybe even being fatal to him. That’s what Chat feared now when he stared at his suit’s sleek black surface – to get killed by his own suit’s malfunctioning, suit’s which was supposed to be his ally.

He needed to hurry. Hurry with everything.  
  
He would free Marinette and then hunt down Ladybug even if it was the last thing he would do on this Earth.

Chat Blanc had made up his mind. For good.

 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Next day Marinette got a visitor in her cell; the Paris’s best attorney, Mr. Henri Coulon, who had been provided and hired to replace the attorney Marinette’s parents had got her, and no other was behind this new support campaign than the fashion guru Gabriel Agreste himself.

 

 


End file.
